


Forever

by seductivembrace



Series: Forever!verse [1]
Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-19 04:35:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 36
Words: 67,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3596580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seductivembrace/pseuds/seductivembrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set post-<i>Lineage</i>. Buffy is in Rome missing Spike. Spike is in LA missing Buffy. He decides to go to her to see if she wants him in her life. Good thing too, because there’s a new evil in town. Completed August 2004.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Rome  
Six months after leaving Sunnydale…

_She clasped his hand and looked deeply into his eyes, wanting to maintain the contact with him as long as possible. Her hand ignited within his. The pain is intense, but she refused to let go, to leave him._

_“I love you.”_

_“No, you don’t. But, thanks for saying it.”_

_Time was getting short. The walls were starting to crumble in around them._

_“Buffy, you have to leave,” Spike told her._

_“No.”_

_“Buffy, you have to. This place is falling apart.”_

_Reluctantly, Buffy released Spike’s hand as he started to burn from the inside out. Using the remainder of her energy, she ran up the stairs to the roof of the school. Just as the building started to implode, she hurled herself onto the top of the moving bus filled with the remaining survivors of the confrontation with the First._

~*~

Buffy abruptly sat up in her bed, Spike’s name frozen in a silent scream on her lips. Drenched in sweat, tears streamed silently down her ashen face. Her arms wrapped around her knees that were drawn sharply to her chest, and she sat there, breathing heavily, desperate to catch her breath and slow her racing heart.

It was the same way she woke every day. 

She should have been used to the dreams by now, but she wasn’t. She could still feel the pain from the fire as she’d gripped Spike’s hand. Could still feel the intensity of his gaze.

It hurt just thinking about it.

Buffy shook her head to clear her thoughts and reluctantly climbed out of bed. She needed to make sure that Dawn was up and getting ready for school.

She’d been trying to put Sunnydale, the Hellmouth, and the events surrounding her departure from the States, behind her. Had finally carved a niche out for herself and her sister in Rome after touring most of Europe for months on end, thanks mostly to Giles and his gift of back pay he’d bestowed upon her. His first action as the new head of the Council. Dawn was now in school, actually _attending_ classes. Learning languages, sciences, arts, and history – things that hadn’t been possible before because the First had come back for a final showdown in Sunnydale.

The future was looking brighter for her younger sister.

While Dawn attended classes, Buffy settled into a new life training slayers. With Giles busy with the day-to-day running of the Watcher’s Council from his home base in England, he was far too busy to see the girls’ training, and it gave her something to do. 

Now that there were so many slayers, it made sense to give the young girls every possible advantage over the demons that still roamed the globe. As quickly as Giles, Willow, and Xander, could find them, the girls were arriving on her doorstep. Pretty soon she’d have to move to a bigger building.

She missed seeing her fellow Scoobies, but didn’t want to appear selfish. Their emails and weekly chats would have to suffice for now, although she still looked forward to her daily morning conference call with Giles.

After her morning briefing, Buffy would walk out into the courtyard to meditate before heading to the third floor to start her basic training with the girls. Then the girls would head off to their respective tutors for several hours, leaving Buffy to train alone. At the end of the day, she’d take a shower, letting the hot, pulsing water heal her bruised and battered body. Hoping that if she just trained hard enough, she might be able to fall into an exhausted sleep. One devoid of dreams.

It never worked though. Each night she dreamed of her last moments with Spike, and each morning she resolved to work that much harder so she wouldn’t have the dream the following night.

She was losing weight, weight she could barely afford to lose, and her lack of appetite wasn’t helping.

For the last six months, she had been going through the motions. In the aftermath of the Sunnydale, emotionally, Buffy had shut down, her heart broken beyond repair. Except for Dawn, she didn’t have any room left in her to love. It just hurt too damn much.

Buffy had realized too late how strong her feelings were for Spike. She had meant it when she said she loved him. And it wasn’t just because he was about to die saving her, in turn, saving all of them. He had been her rock after returning from Africa. Believing in her, even when she didn’t want to believe in herself.

When Angel had shown up in Sunnydale claiming to be her champion, she had almost said yes to his being her champion. Knowing, deep down, that if Spike were to be the one, he would be taken from her.

She’d been right. But, then, he’d not made things easy for her either. Since getting his soul back, Spike had had the whole “hero” bit down pat and had just held out his hand for his reward as if it were a foregone conclusion the medallion was meant for him.

Now, relationships were a thing of the past; the few men that she had loved in her life had wound up leaving... including Spike.

She knew it was irrational. Felt guilty for even thinking it.

Spike had died saving the world.

 _‘But, he still left me, dammit,’_ Buffy thought as she left her room to start another day.

~*~*~*~*~

Los Angeles

Wesley was sitting behind his desk when the mail clerk arrived at his office. Included with the other various envelopes, a dusty chest was placed upon his desk. Looking up from perusing an internal memo of absolutely no relevance, Wesley glanced at the box. The lid bore an inscription he couldn’t make out.

Putting the memo aside, he got up and walked around to the front of his desk peering closely at the chest from several angles. Old in design, with many unusual markings, the wooden box was slightly larger than a shoebox. There were no locks securing it, just a clasp holding the top closed. Wesley flipped the catch and opened the lid to reveal an old parchment written in a language he was unfamiliar with.

“Interesting,” he mumbled to himself. He tucked the chest under his arm and headed towards Angel’s office. Along the way, he ran into Gunn and Lorne, advising them to follow him.

“What’s in the box, Wes?” Gunn asked.

“I’m not sure just yet. There’s a scroll inside written in a language I’ve never seen before. I was on my way to Angel’s office to see if he might recognize it.”

Lorne opened the door for Wesley and followed him and Gunn inside. Angel and Spike were throwing verbal barbs at one another. Fred was sitting on the couch, silently laughing at the pair. Angel and Spike had come to an uneasy truce since Spike had materialized from within the amulet and just recently becoming corporeal. Lorne personally thought they bickered like siblings. He never mentioned it to either of them because he didn’t want their glacier stares pointed his way. Still, it was cute nonetheless.

Wesley set the box down on Angel’s desk.

“What’s this?” Angel asked of Wesley.

“I was hoping you could tell me. There is an inscription on the lid. When I opened it—”

“You _what_?!” Spike yelled, his momentary bickering with Angel forgotten. “Aren’t you supposed to open new thingies in one of those secure gizmos? What are you tryin’ to do? Start a bleedin’ new apocalypse?”

“Spike, shut up.” Angel muttered. “Wes, continue.”

“Er, right.” Wesley glanced at Spike warily, noted how his jaw clenched from Angel’s reprimand. “As I was saying, inside the box is a scroll written in a language I’ve never seen. I was hoping that you might take a look at the writing and see if you recognized the language.”

Wesley opened the lid, revealing the scroll protected within. Angel and Spike looked inside and frowned.

“Looks like gibberish to me,” Spike remarked.

“I’m not going to be of much help either, I’m afraid,” Angel added.

Fred got up from the couch, her curious nature unable to keep her away for another moment. The men in the room made space so that she could see the scroll clearly.

“These markings look somewhat familiar. I thought I recalled seeing a book in Wesley’s collection with something similar,” Fred commented.

“Hmmm... really? I don’t recall...” Wes trailed off as Fred left the group and moved towards the door.

“Coming, Wes?” she asked.

“Uh, yes...” He hurriedly re-closed the lid and caught up with Fred, leaving the two vampires, Gunn and Lorne in the room.

“Right. Well, I’ll leave you to it, then,” Spike said as he followed Wes and Fred out of the office.

Once outside, Spike headed for the front doors of Wolfram & Hart. The night was young and he had a job to do. The others could stay and shuffle papers. Spike, on the other hand, took more of a hands-on approach towards stopping the evil-doers in the city. Nothing like staying sharp, pitting his skills against the various scumbags inhabiting Los Angeles.

“No wonder Buffy doesn’t trust the poofter anymore.” Spike muttered, on the lookout for some baddies to stake. “Since taking over at Wolfram & Hart, he’s gone soft. Never comes out of his office to get his fingers dirty.”

~*~*~*~*~

Lying on his bed, back at his apartment, Spike thought back over the previous hours’ work. Three vamps and a weird Fandlyre demon. Not a bad night – but it just wasn’t the same without the Slayer at his side. For the past few months Spike had become dispassionate with the way things were being handled at Wolfram & Hart. Angel had changed, and not for the better, content to stay safely hidden within the walls of the law offices he now oversaw. There was no denying that he missed Buffy either. Niblet too.

He told himself he didn’t know how to top his last exit. At least that was the excuse he gave for not going after the Slayer. But the truth of the matter was that he was scared. Scared to take the chance of finally seeing the love of his life and having her take back the words of love she’d spoken before he had been sent to hell.

 _‘Quit being a bloody pansy,’_ his inner voice demanded. _‘Just get on a plane and fly to Rome. Angel has a private jet. Put it to good use. Get off your bloody arse and just go.’_


	2. Chapter 2

Spike looked out the window of the Lear jet as it crossed the Atlantic Ocean. He’d actually done it. Taken that first step at a reunion with the Slayer. He was trying to think of something to say to Buffy when he showed up on her doorstep.

Something witty.

Something sincere.

He had no idea. He finally gave up and reached for another single serving liquor bottle from the stack he’d snatched from the bar. As he continued to consume the little bottles, his mind played back his conversation with Angel.

“I need to borrow the plane, Peaches.”

“Come again?”

“I said…I need to borrow the bloody plane, mate.” 

“What for?”

“Look. It’s just sitting at the bloody airport, not being used. What’s it to you anyway? Thought you wanted to be rid of me, and all.”

“Buffy,” he growled.

“Yeah, what about her?” 

“You’re going to see her!”

“So? What’s it to you? I’ve put it off long enough. Time to see where I stand with her. ’Bit, too. Tired of sitting here wallowin’ in m’ sorrow. Forgot for a while who I was. Well, not anymore. Time for me to take what I want and damn the consequences.”

Spike didn’t see the punch coming. One minute he was starting to get philosophical and rationalize his feelings for Buffy, the next minute he was flying through the air, landing in a sprawl across the couch.

“Right then,” Spike said as he rubbed his throbbing jaw.

He vamped out, pushed himself to his feet and attacked. Angel was waiting for him, already had his game face on. But Angel wasn’t ready for a determined Spike. Spike started running towards Angel, but before reaching him, Spike launched himself straight at Angel’s midsection. The force of that headlong dive sent them both crashing over and behind Angel’s desk. Since Spike landed on top of Angel, he was able to get up first. Over and over, they traded punches, kicks.

So into their battle, they didn’t hear Angel’s office door open. Didn’t see Fred, Wesley, Gunn, and Lorne throw open the office doors and rush inside to see what the commotion was about. They were too busy concentrating on who would get the upper hand. It wasn’t long before their bloodlust subsided and they were throwing punches for their own perverse pleasure.

Having had enough, Angel threw Spike off him saying, “Hurt her and I’ll stake you myself.”

“Hello?! Slayer. If anyone’s gonna be doing the hurting, it’s gonna be her, you bloody poof.” Angel raised an eyebrow over the obvious disrespect in that nickname but didn’t comment about it.

“I’ll call the pilot and let him know you’re coming.”

Spike rubbed his jaw, shaking his head ruefully.

“Bloke can still throw a punch,” he muttered as he drifted off into a drink-induced slumber.

~*~*~*~*~

The jet touched down in England a few hours later. It was night when they landed, so he could freely leave the plane. Walking up to the cockpit, he told the pilots he had a few meetings to attend but would be back before dawn so they could resume their flight to Rome.

“Now to see a man about a girl,” he smirked as he headed out into the night.

An hour later, Spike caught up with him. 

Andrew had just emerged from the Watcher’s Council building. He even looked the watcher part, right down to the tweed suit and suitcase.

“Hey, mate.”

“Spike!?!?! Wow! You’re alive. I mean… uh… What are you doing here?”

“I need her address.”

“Who? Oh, you mean Buffy’s? I don’t know if I should—”

“Oh, bollocks!” Spike interrupted. “Look, mate, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. I may have a soul, but nothing is gonna stop me from seein’ her. I’ve been bloody noble long enough.”

“Does Giles know that—?”

“No, he doesn’t, and I want to keep it that way,” Spike cut him off menacingly. His eyes flashed yellow and the ridges briefly appeared on his forehead to emphasize his point.

“N-no problem. I wasn’t going to say anything. I didn’t say anything before…after I came back from… well, you know…” Opening his briefcase, he took out one of his business cards and wrote Buffy’s address down on the back.

Spike took it and left without another word. He didn’t think that Andrew was going to keep his promise, but it was too late now. He was over halfway there; he wasn’t turning back now.

~*~*~*~*~

Rome

When Spike finally arrived in Rome, it was too close to sunrise for him to try and locate the Slayer. Realizing that did nothing to improve his mood. Frustrated, Spike slammed into the bedroom at the back of the plane to attempt to sleep the daylight away.

~*~*~*~*~

By the time the sun finally set, Spike was bouncing with nervous energy. His Italian was very rusty, so it took him a few hours before he found her place. Now, having scoped out where she lived, Spike was suddenly plagued with doubts. Needing to bolster his courage, he stopped in at a bar around the corner from her home. A few drinks to help calm his nerves, get his head back in the game...

After his second drink had gone warm from what he refused to think of as brooding, Spike reluctantly paid his tab and left. He backtracked the way he’d come and stood on the steps to her building, surprised to see very few lights left on.

“Great! Now I’ve missed her,” he muttered under his breath. “She’s probably out on patrol.”

He knocked on the door anyway. A few minutes went by before he heard footsteps coming closer to the door and the lock slide free.

“Damn. Don’t they even ask who it is anymore?” Spike mumbled as the door began to creak open.

A second later the Slayer stood framed in the doorframe and Spike could only stare. The last time he’d seen her, he had been burning from the inside out. 

It felt like a lifetime ago.

“Spike?” Buffy whispered, reaching a hand out towards him. She promptly fainted, but not before getting out a weak, “come in.”

“Bloody hell.”

Spike caught the Slayer before she collapsed onto the floor. Gathering her up in his arms, he kicked the door shut and used preternatural senses to sniff out her bedroom.


	3. Chapter 3

Los Angeles  
Wesley’s Office, Wolfram & Hart

Wesley sat in his seat behind his desk, while Fred sat near him, perched on the edge of the desk. Both were deeply engrossed as the two stared at the scroll laid out before them on the desk. Several books were scattered over the top of its surface, each book was open to various places to help them translate the scroll before them.

Empty, discarded take-out Chinese boxes took up the remaining empty space. Wesley looked at the text again. Just when he thought he was on the right track, he was brought to a halt by another translation in a different book. So far, they had only been able to get two lines translated and they’d been working on it since yesterday.

“Hmmmm…” Fred grabbed another book and flipped to a page marked with a scrap piece of paper. “This may help us with the next part… Yes, that’s it!”

“To give up the demon inside… For which a soul now grows… It looks like this is the translation for the next two lines. Wow… this sounds like Angel.”

The person they were talking about chose that moment to knock on Wesley’s office door.

“How’s it coming, guys?” Angel asked.

“I think we’re finally starting to make some headway. It looks like we have the first part translated.”

“We’ll know better how it relates once we get it transcribed in its entirety, but the first part says, “‘Spawned from darkness and evil, Yet, but for love willingly chose, To give up the demon inside, For which a soul now grows,” Wesley replied.

“Well, keep at it,” Angel said. “And let me know when you have it finished. I’ve got feelers out with other departments to see if we need to be worried about anything that might be coming.”

“Right. We’ll let you know what we come up with.”

Fred and Wesley once again bent over the scroll on his desk and got back to work.

~*~*~*~*~

Rome  
Buffy’s Residence

Spike walked through the entryway taking in his surroundings, the Slayer cradled gently in his arms. Bypassing the main hallway, which appeared to lead to various living rooms, studies and such, he quickly climbed the stairs as he sought out her bedroom. At the end of the second floor he noticed a door ajar. Pushing the door all the way open with his foot, he realized that this was the Slayer’s room. Not because of any personal effects, the room actually looked quite barren. Rather, he just sensed that this was her room – her scent being more concentrated here.

Spike laid the Slayer gently on her bed, and then sat down next to her, his eyes glued to her face. With hands that shook, he smoothed the hair back off her face.

“Luv, wake up,” Spike whispered, his eyes starting to tear.

The Slayer looked like hell. Her skin was pale, and she looked practically skeletal she’d lost so much weight. Dark circles appeared to have taken up residence under her eyes.

_‘She looks like the walking dead.’_

He got off the bed to shut and lock the bedroom door, then made sure the drapes covered the windows. The Slayer put up no protest, and barely even whimpered as he manipulated her body out of her clothes and got her settled beneath the covers. He stared at her for a moment before taking his own clothes off and joining her. Sliding his arms around her, he gently pulled her back into his embrace. Soothed her with whispered words and soothing touches as she slept, oblivious of his presence.  
He held her like that for what seemed like hours before he finally succumbed to sleep himself.

~*~*~*~*~

Los Angeles  
Angel’s Office, Wolfram & Hart

Angel was seated behind his desk talking to Lorne and Gunn when Fred and Wesley hurried into his office.

“Well?” Angel asked.

“I’m not sure what it means, but we’ve managed to finally get it transcribed. It took a while because it wasn’t written in one distinct language. Rather, a blending of languages, if you will.”

“What does it say?”

“I’m not one hundred percent positive. Like I said, blending languages aside, this is what I’ve... we’ve... been able to decipher,” Wesley replied, then he began to read the transcribed scroll in its entirety.

__

_Spawned from darkness and evil_  
_Yet, but for love willingly chose_  
_To give up the demon inside_  
_For which a soul now grows_

_As the one grows weak_  
_And begins to decay_  
_A kiss, mixed with blood_  
_Will keep death at bay_

_A price will be paid_  
_To save the one’s life_  
_Forever immortal_  
_No longer among light_

“What does it mean?” Angel asked, looking at Wesley.

“I have no idea.”

~*~*~*~*~

Rome  
Buffy’s room, the following morning

Buffy lay in bed, not completely asleep, not quite awake. She felt rested for the first time in... a really long time. She realized something was different but couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was. Slowly, things started coming back to her. As the haze of sleepiness finally wore off, she bolted upright in bed.

Several things went through her mind at once: no heart-wrenching dream last night, no crying herself awake, and most importantly, Spike is alive! Turning, she looked into the piercing blue, although uncertain, eyes of her vampire.

Spike had awoken instantly when the Slayer practically jackknifed out of the bed. His game face on, ready to protect Buffy with his life if need be. Seeing no one else in the room, the ridges above his eyes quickly faded, and eyes went from yellow to blue in a flash. He stared at the Slayer trying to gauge her mood.

Buffy reached out a tentative hand to determine if the vision before her eyes was real or just a hallucination. Her fingers shook as they made contact with his sculpted cheekbones.

“Spiii…iike?” she stuttered softly.

“Yes, luv.”

Slowly, she dropped her hand from his face. Her face crumpled, and she began to sob uncontrollably.

“Awww, luv, don’t cry,” he whispered as he pulled her tight against his chest.

In between sobs that wracked her body, Buffy got out little phrases like: “…so hard after you were gone… wanted to be with you… missed you so much… wanted to die so I could be with you…”

Spike just held her while she poured out her grief, mumbling incoherent assurances, comforting her as best he could. After a time, her crying subsided and Spike quietly rocked her, holding her as tightly as he dared. _‘God, it feels good to have her back in my arms,’_ he thought.


	4. Chapter 4

The Slayer lay in Spike’s arms. Every so often, her body would shudder from a delayed half-sob. Spike continued to hold her, running his hand from the top of her head down the length of her hair. The soothing touch eventually lulled her into a light sleep.

When he felt her breathing even out, he carefully eased out of bed and headed to the bathroom for a quick shower. He’d not bothered with luggage when he left, so had to content himself with wearing the clothes he’d worn earlier; he’d use the cash in his pocket to go out later and buy a few things. Hearing a door open down the hall, he quietly unlocked the Slayer’s bedroom door and stepped silently into the hall, pulling the door shut behind him.

Dawn was walking down the hall on the way to wake up her sister before she started to get ready for school. Various thoughts were running through her mind, so at first she didn’t see the blond-haired vampire walking towards her. Suddenly, she glanced up. Just as she was about to let out a blood-curling scream, Spike’s hand settled over her mouth.

“ _Smii—!_ ” Dawn shrieked behind his hand, her eyes going wide.

He nodded at her, grinning slightly at the expression on her face. When Spike was sure that Dawn wasn’t going to start yelling, he removed his hand from her mouth.

“Spike? It’s really you? How—?” Dawn questioned as she launched herself at him.

“Hey, ’Bit. It’s a long story. Once Buffy wakes up we’ll talk, yeah?”

He awkwardly patted her back until she released him.

“But—!”

Spike gave her his no-nonsense look.

“Fine,” she pouted. “I have to get ready for school anyway.”

She turned around and headed back to her room. Halfway down the hall, she stopped and turned around. “You’re gonna be here when I get home, right?”

“I’m not going anywhere. Promise.”

“Okay, then,” and she continued back down the hallway to her room, a little skip in her step.

Spike turned around and eased back inside the Slayer’s room and shut the door. Seeing her still asleep, he went and sat in the chair, his eyes never leaving her.

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy woke feeling slightly disoriented. Suddenly, everything from the morning came rushing back her, and she glanced to the spot beside her. Nothing. _‘Don’t tell me it was a dream. I couldn’t take it.’_ She quickly sat up in bed, pulling the covers to her chest. Frantically, her eyes darted around her bedroom. She let out a breath when she spotted Spike sprawled in the chair across the room. His feet were resting up on the matching ottoman. His elbow was propped on the armrest, his head in his upturned palm. He was fast asleep.

_‘I wasn’t dreaming.’_

Shoving the covers off her, Buffy bounded out of bed, gasping when she realized she wore not a stitch of clothing. Remedying that with a quick trip to her dresser to pull out underwear, a pair of shorts and one of Spike’s black t-shirts, remnants from the duffle she’d refused to part with.

When she was feeling especially despondent, she’d go to her bottom drawer and pull out something of his to look at or wear. In those times, she felt a little closer to him. She didn’t really need to wear it now, but she wanted him to know that she had thought about him. That she’d not forgotten him.

Padding quietly across the floor, she slipped into the bathroom to take care of a few necessities. After using the bathroom, she made quick work of brushing her teeth and washing her face. Gathered her long hair into one hand and tied her hair back into a ponytail. Looking in the mirror for the first time in what had probably been ages, she couldn’t help but grimaced at her reflection. She looked a mess.

When she finally walked out of the bathroom a few minutes later, she noticed that Spike was still dozing on the chair, so she left her bedroom and went in search of Dawn. Her sister was singing along to some song playing on the radio. The door was ajar, so Buffy pushed it open. As usual, Dawn’s room was a mess. Looking at Dawn’s reflection in the mirror, Buffy could see that she was unusually happy. Just then, Dawn looked up and made eye contact in the mirror. Twirling around in her chair, she bounded up and over to Buffy.

“Can you believe it? He’s really back!” she gushed.

A slow smile came to Buffy’s face. “I know! You can skip school today if you want. Hang out here with us.”

“I thought about it, believe me, but I have a huge history test today. Can’t miss it. It’s okay. He said he’d be here when I got back. You’ll make sure he is, right?”

“Count on it. At least let me make you some breakfast before you go.”

“Uh, Buff. Thanks, but no. I know how you are with food and cooking. Very non-mixy. I’ll just grab a pastry.” Seeing the crushed look on Buffy’s face, she added, “But, if you’re making coffee….”

Buffy perked up at that.

“Right, coffee. Coming right up.”

She left Dawn’s room and headed towards the kitchen. It was while she was waiting for the coffee to brew, that she realized Spike was going to need blood. After letting her sister know where she was going, Buffy grabbed money from the desk near the front door and darted out of her house. The butcher shop wasn’t far away, only a few blocks, in fact. She could be there and back before Dawn left for school.

“What can I get you, miss?” the man asked once it was her turn.

“A couple liters of pig’s blood.”

The butcher gave her a weird look, but didn’t comment. Buffy paid for her purchase, took the brown bag, and walked back home. Dawn was just heading out the front door when she got there.

“I’m off. I’ll see you this afternoon.”

“’kay. Have a good day.”

Buffy headed inside and put all but one of the bags in the refrigerator. The last she placed in a mug and heated briefly in the microwave. She was surprised at how much she wasn’t grossed out as she carried the mug upstairs with her to her room.

Spike came awake as Buffy shut and locked the bedroom door.

“Morning. I’ve got breakfast,” she told him as she handed it to him. “Pig’s blood... Best I could do on such short notice.”

“It’s fine, luv. I’ve had worse.” Spike then proceeded to down the contents. Finished, he set the empty mug on the floor beside the chair. “Ta.”

Spike looked up once he set the mug aside. Buffy was eying him nervously, unsure what to say. Silently, he reached out his hand to her.

“Com ‘ere, luv.”

Buffy allowed him to pull her towards him so that she could sit on his lap and lay her head on his shoulder. She had so many questions that she wanted to ask. In the end, all she could get out was: “How?”

Spike proceeded to tell her about how he was brought back by the amulet that Buffy had given him to use, how at first he was no more than a ghost. He told her about everything that happened right up until he got on a plane to come see her. Throughout his explanation, she said nothing, although she had unshed tears shining in her eyes.

“Why didn’t you come back to me sooner?”

“Hate to say it, luv, but I was just plain scared. And I was tryin’ to be noble, tryin’ to do the right thing. Couldn’t though. I missed you too damn much. I know I’m no good for you, but I couldn’t stay away.”

“I’m glad. Glad you finally came back to me.”

Lifting her head from his shoulder, she looked into blue eyes that seemed to haunt her dreams. Placing a hand on either side of his face, she ever so slowly lowered her lips to his. She lightly brushed her lips back and forth across his own, shocking him with the gentleness of the kiss. His cock hardened, the pressure of his jeans against his hardened length becoming unbearable. Spike’s hands tightened into fists in the waistband of her shorts, he started to moan, “Buffy…”

That was the opening Buffy was waiting for. His mouth open for the taking, she left her gentleness behind and thrust her tongue inside his mouth, as she reacquainted herself with him, claiming him.

Spike couldn’t hold back any longer, and his tongue started its own exploration. When he could stand it no longer, his grip tightened on the Slayer as he pushed himself to his feet; she locked her legs around his waist to hold herself in place. Never breaking their frenzied kiss, he headed to the bed across the room.


	5. Chapter 5

Kneeling on the bed, Spike slowly laid the Slayer back against the mattress then followed, stretching his body out on top of hers. Her arms were still clasped firmly around his neck. _‘Got to slow down, going too fast,’_ he thought. “Buffy, luv, wait. We need... we need to slow down,” he got out in between kisses. 

Leaving his lips, Buffy made a trail to Spike’s ear and started nibbling lightly.

“Next time,” she purred in his ear before resuming her love bites.

All thoughts of him taking it slow went right out the window at her words. With a growl, he released his weight from his upper arms. Grabbing the Slayer, he rolled so that she was straddling him while he stretched out underneath her. He gripped the bottom of her black t-shirt and lifted it up over her head and threw it to the floor.

She wasn’t wearing a bra.

He sucked in an unneeded breath at the sight of her bare chest. Sitting up, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. Her breasts smashed against his naked chest, a soft moan escaped them both at the contact before Spike claimed her lips in another toe-curling kiss.

“God. Buffy… feels so good,” he whispered as he released her mouth to trail kisses along her jaw.

Fisting one hand in her hair, he tugged her head back, strong enough to drive her crazy, not strong enough to hurt. With slow deliberation, he trailed kisses down her exposed neck. His tongue flicked over the vein before biting gently over where he could see the blood pumping through her jugular. He saw the marks left by Angel, the long-dead Master, and that ponce Dracula and bypassed them, a fleeting thought of leaving his own mark on her neck came to his mind before he thrust it aside.

Spike couldn’t wait anymore and easily flipped the Slayer onto her back. Sitting up and pushing himself away from her body, he quickly peeled the shorts down her legs, sending them on the same path as her discarded shirt. Except for a tiny triangle of red, she lay completely exposed to him.

He rose to his feet and quickly stripped off his own jeans then rejoined her on the bed. Starting with her toes, he trailed kisses slowly up one leg. When he reached the red triangle at the apex of her thighs, he gave a quick kiss to her mound, delighting in her squirms. 

“Fuck me now, Spike,” Buffy growled, her hands fisted in his hair as he hovered over her pussy. 

Spike didn’t have to be told twice. He ripped the tiny piece of underwear from her body. Cock in hand, he teased her slit, making sure she was good and wet. Not wanting to her hurt with the force of his own burning need to be buried inside her.

“Spike, please! I’m ready. Just—”

Spike slammed into her in one motion, burying himself to the hilt. With his face buried in her neck, he pumped into her with strong, forceful strokes. Buffy wrapped her legs around his lower back and locked her ankles to hold herself in place, allowing him a different angle, a deep penetration. The tempo increased to a frenzied pace; the bed started to creak as he pounded away driving her deeper into the bed.

Buffy was close to sailing over the edge. She wanted Spike there with her.

“Now Spike, gonna...” Buffy gasped.

Her inner walls started to contract, squeezing his dick. A final stroke and he was done, groaning her name as his release washed over him. Both laid there, completely sated as they slowly became aware of their surroundings. After a moment, Spike forced himself to move, rolling to his back and dragging the Slayer on top of him.

At first, he wasn’t sure if she would let him hold her like this. Before, she would get up, hastily grab her clothes and leave. She hadn’t liked for him to touch her afterwards. It wasn’t until the night she was kicked out of her own home by her friends and family that she’d actually broken down and let him hold her. Nothing happened that night, of course, but it had felt good just to have her in his arms. She came to him again the night before their battle with the First still reeking of Angel, but he couldn’t turn her away.

He never could turn her away.

Idly, he ran his fingers up and down her back while her labored breathing and heart rate began to slow. It didn’t appear that she wanted to move out of his embrace so he continued to rub his hands up and down her back in a soothing gesture. He tucked her hair behind her ear, exposing it, enabling him to lightly nibble on the lobe. He could feel her body start to stir above him, smell her becoming aroused again. It was making him hard again. _‘Slowly this time,’_ he thought as he shifted her down onto his cock.

It was a slow dance this time, aided by Spike’s hands on the Slayer’s hips. Gradually, he shifted their positions, rolling the Slayer to her back. Tilting her chin up, he forced her to look at him. He kept a slow pace, never breaking eye contact with her. For the first time in forever, Spike made love to her like he had always wanted to, cherishing her with his body. He watched as her eyes glazed over at the pleasure he was invoking, but she steadfastly held his gaze.

She had never allowed this before, this connection. Before, it was always about lust, passion, need. This time – with their gazes locked on one another, his thrusts slow and deep – it was about love. All too soon the pressure became too much. Buffy’s eyes started to drift closed as her orgasm approached.

“No,” Spike whispered. Buffy’s eyes snapped open again.

“Look at me,” he urged. “I want to watch you.”

Spike kept up the slow, deep pace. Suddenly, Buffy’s mouth opened, her eyes became unfocused. He felt the beginnings of her orgasm.

“I love you.” He punctuated each whispered word with the thrusting of his hips. Eyes locked with Buffy, he quickly joined her.

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy lay in Spike’s arm, listening to his deep, even breathing. Still strange to witness, knowing he didn’t need to breathe. After a time, she got up and headed to the bathroom. She took a quick shower then went to her dresser to grab some workout clothes. It was time for her to start her training session with the girls. Before she left, she wrote Spike a brief note.

_Spike,_

_It’s almost noon. I’m on the third floor training the girls. Join me when you wake up._

_Buffy_

When she finished her note, she laid it on her pillow so that he would see it. Quietly, she made her way to her bedroom door. She gave a last backward glance at Spike after opening the door before stepping out in the hallway and soundlessly shutting it behind her. With a little sigh, she headed down the hallway to the flight of stairs leading to the third floor, and the training room. For the first time in forever, she wanted to blow off training and while away the day in bed.

Walking into the huge room, she noticed the girls were all sitting on the floor, stretching, getting ready for the coming workout. Various weapons littered the walls. In the center of one wall was the scythe that had been saved from the last battle on the Hellmouth. It served as a reminder that evil was still out there but could be overcome with a little faith, determination, and a nice big axe.

Buffy took her position at the head of the room. The girls stood up and spread out throughout the room and Buffy began their first kata. An hour later she finished their warm-up, and the girls broke up into smaller groups to work on their hand-to-hand skills. More time went by then the girls grabbed stakes, daggers, or small crossbows to practice against the dummies stationed throughout the large room.

Spike walked into the room to see a girl mangle a suspended dummy with a broadsword. He looked like he had just rolled out of bed; his hair was standing on end.

Buffy had sensed Spike nearby, and she stopped instructing one of the girls on how to escape a chokehold to look at the door. _‘Bed-head Spike, yum.’_ She felt a rush of pleasure go through her at the sight before her eyes.

The others in the room stopped what they were doing to see what had distracted their teacher. Usually she kept them at it for five straight hours without a break. Today, it seemed like her mind was somewhere else. Plus, there were no harsh words. No quick criticism. Today, she was actually taking time to go over stuff without getting angry. Seeing a vampire, a master vampire at that, standing in the doorway quickly had the girls on edge.

“Guess they need to work on their intuitive skills a bit, luv,” Spike remarked. “I could sense you all the way at the end of the hall.”

“I haven’t got that far yet. I’m still working on their defensive skills,” Buffy replied.

Seeing the camaraderie between the vampire and Buffy, the other girls began to relax. Buffy chose that moment to introduce Spike to the girls.

“Spike, these are some of the girls that the new council has sent me to train.”

The girls walked away from the various stations they were at to form a half-hazard line about ten feet in front of him. The youngest appeared to be no more than thirteen, the oldest not much older than that.

“They’re a little young, Slayer.”

“That’s the age group I get. Once they reach sixteen, they’re given their own watcher to look out for them. Right now, I teach them. Then, we go out as a group to patrol.”

Spike gave her a questioning look. At that, she said, “I wasn’t feeling well last night. That’s why I was here.”

“Ah, right then.”

“Anyway. These are my girls: Angelina, Stephanie, Zhora, Theresa, Francesca, Katherine - Kat for short - Lionna, Sydney, Petra, and Corinne.” As each name was said, the girls smiled. Some gave a little wave.

“Ladies...” he nodded in turn. “You ‘bout through here, pet?”

The girls looked ready to drop.

“Actually, we’ve got another hour or so.” Groans erupted from some of the girls. “But,” she said over their outburst, “I think we can knock off for today.” There were actually a few cheers to that announcement.

“Besides, we can always work a little longer tomorrow.” More groans. Buffy winked at Spike.

“Okay, girls. Let’s get the weapons put away then hit the showers, dinner will be in a few hours.”

Buffy grabbed Spike by the arm and left the training room. “Come on. I need to get a shower before Dawn gets home. I promised her that you’d be here when she got home from school.”

With a wicked grin she asked rhetorically, “Now, how am I gonna manage to keep an eye on you and get a shower at the same time?” And, she sauntered off down the hallway leaving a rock-hard Spike standing there staring after her. He recovered quickly and raced after her. Grabbing her about the waist, he upended her over his shoulder caveman style and raced down the stairs as fast as he could manage without jarring her. Her squeals of delight floated back up the hallway.

If the slayers-in-training thought it was weird for a slayer and a vampire to be acting like a bunch of lovesick teenagers, they sure didn’t voice it.


	6. Chapter 6

Dawn, Buffy, and Spike were sitting at the kitchen table. Spike was explaining to Dawn how he came back; Buffy had heard the story earlier so she just sat quietly at the conversation flowing around her. Spike’s story was interrupted quite frequently by Dawn’s, “No ways! Reallys! Uh uhs! and Wows!” Once Spike was finished retelling his tale, he asked Dawn what she had been up to.

“Not too much. We traveled a bit during the summer, and then decided on Rome as a place to live. It’s way different than Sunnydale. I’m back in school. It’s actually kinda fun. Way better than before.”

“That’s good, Niblet.”

“Yeah, and now that Giles is in charge of the new Watcher’s Council, we don’t have to worry about money. Buffy’s actually getting a paycheck. Can you believe it? The Council even footed the bill for this place. Neat, huh?” Dawn asked.

“’bout bloody time,” Spike grumbled.

Buffy just smiled ruefully.

“It’s getting late, Dawnie. Better get started on your homework. I’ve got to go get ready for patrol,” Buffy said as she stood up from the table. Spike stood up as well.

“I’m comin’ with, if it’s all the same to you, pet. Maybe I can show your little slayers a thing or two. Will the ‘Bit be okay here by herself?”

“She’ll be fine. This place is surrounded by a protection spell, thanks to Willow. It was one of the things she took care of once we finally settled on a place to live. Giles insisted.”

“’Lemme just grab my jacket and round up the girls. I’ll be right back.” Buffy walked out of the kitchen and headed up to her room to get her jacket and a few weapons. On the way back out into the hall she called the girls. They began to trickle out of their rooms and followed her back downstairs. None of them were surprised to see the blond vampire waiting for them.

They didn’t stay out on patrol long. It was kind of hard to sneak up on the “baddies” with such a large group. They weren’t exactly quiet on the prowl either. However, they did manage to find a few vampires to dust, so all in all, it wasn’t a bad night. The girls got to practice their hand-to-hand combat skills, and Buffy was grateful to have an extra pair of expert hands keeping an eye on things.

Once back home, the girls branched out, either to their respective bedrooms or the living room to watch television.

“Not too late,” she reminded the ones watching TV. “Tutoring starts early tomorrow.”

The young slayers didn’t go to a regular school like Dawn. Buffy didn’t want to worry about having to answer any questions posed by school officials. Instead, the Council sent tutors to teach the girls English, science, math, and history. They also learned about religion, relics, demons, and magic.

Buffy walked through the building, double-checking the locks. Spike trailed behind her. Once she was satisfied everything was secure she headed upstairs to her room.

“The girls are good. A little green, but the slayer instincts are there,” Spike commented.

“Yeah. I’m afraid I’ve been a little hard on them.”

Spike looked at her quizzically. Buffy glanced at him, but didn’t comment as to why. The last thing she need to do was voice her recurring nightmares and the steps she had been taking to deal with them to prevent their recurring – not that it ever made any difference.

“Now that you’re here you can help me with them. You _are_ staying, right?” she asked a little uncertainly.

Spike enveloped her in his arms. “Just try to make me leave.”

Pulling slowly out of his embrace she told him, “I’m gonna check on Dawnie real quick. I’ll be right back.” It was a little after eleven. Dawn would probably be asleep, but Buffy always checked on her. Just to be safe. Buffy no longer took things for granted. Cracking Dawn’s door open, she stuck her head in the room. Dawn was snuggled under the covers, fast asleep. She closed the door and headed back to her room.

~*~*~*~*~

Spike waited in the bedroom for the Slayer. He wasn’t sure exactly where he stood with her. True, they had made love, but he didn’t want to presume anything. With nervous uncertainty, he prowled around the room. Hearing her walk back down the hall towards him, he stopped his pacing and went to stand over by the window. Lifting the curtain away from the window, he peered out at nighttime Rome.

Everything was quiet. Almost too quiet. Never a good sign.

Buffy pushed open the door, then shut and locked it behind her; her eyes were immediately drawn to where Spike stood by the window. _‘He feels it too. I knew I had reason to worry.’_ Even with her despondency over Spike, she’d noticed something whispering on the wind. An unnamed evil. Lurking.

“I’m glad I’m not the only one who can sense it.”

Turning away from the window, Spike looked at her, his head cocked slightly to the side. “It’s too bloody quiet.”

“I know.” She walked over to him and laid her head against his chest, grateful when Spike wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

“Wonder if this has something to do with the chest that showed up on Angel’s door.”

“Huh?”

“Nothin’, luv. Just thinkin’ out loud.”

Spike lifted the Slayer into his arms and carried her to the bed. He paused only long enough to pull off their shoes before resettling themselves on top of the covers. “It’s just that when things show up mysteriously, for no reason, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Before I left, Wesley received a chest containing a mysterious scroll. He didn’t know where it came from.”

“I’ll ask Giles tomorrow when he calls and see if he’s heard anything or knows of anything. I don’t like this quiet. It’s just a feeling I have, nothing tangible. But I’m worried, Spike.”

“Don’t be, luv. I’m here now. I won’t let anything happen to you.” He leaned in and kissed her ear, whispering, “Now rest. It’s been a long day.” It killed him to say those last seven words.

Turning in his arms to face him she said, “I don’t want to rest. Love me, Spike.”

“Always, pet,” sealing his vow with a searing kiss. Clothes were quickly shed, and then Spike was once more sliding home. Soon, all thoughts were gone as he – _they_ – were caught up in the dance.

~*~*~*~*~

The Outskirts of Rome

The cloak-clad figure stood staring at the rising fire in the hearth. He seemed transfixed as he stared at the flames, as if they were talking to him in a language only he could understand. A manservant stood in the corner of the room, awaiting word from his master. In his hands, the servant held the book that would aid his master in ridding the world of all the new slayers.

“Bring it to me.”

The servant walked quickly forward, coming round to stand in front of his master, his head bowed. He held the book up. Red eyes glanced quickly at the cover before fading to black, then he opened the book. His hand hovered a moment over the pages until they began magically flipping forward at a rapid pace. Halfway through the book, the pages stopped, coming to rest where the man needed. He scanned the words printed on the page and let forth an evil laugh.

_‘This is almost too easy.’_


	7. Chapter 7

England  
The Watcher’s Council Headquarters, Giles’ Office

“Hello, Buffy,” Giles said into the phone. “How are things progressing on your end?”

“Ok. The girls have the instinct, they just need the direction.”

“That’s good.”

“Giles, did you know about Spike?” she asked out of the blue.

“Er… uh, no. No, I didn’t know that he was alive. Wait…how do you know he’s alive?”

“He’s back. He came back to me. He’s here with me. In Rome. Right now.”

“Oh. Oh, I see.” Giles pulled off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “How?”

At his question of how, Buffy told him briefly about how he was brought back through the amulet and that he’d been staying with Angel in Los Angeles.

“And, he’s been at Wolfram & Hart’s this whole time?” he asked. “Helping Angel?”

“Listen, Giles. The reason I’m mentioning Spike is because he’s feeling something. And, the funny thing is…so am I. Have you heard anything? Some new apocalypse I’m not aware of? I’m really not liking this feeling that I’m getting. Something isn’t right. Like it’s lurking in the shadows, biding its time. I’m worried, Giles.”

Dawn suddenly came into Buffy’s line of vision as she sat behind her desk talking on the phone to Giles.

“Look, Giles. Just check into it and get back to me, okay?”

“Certainly.”

“Thanks, Giles. I love you. Talk to you tomorrow.” Buffy hung up the phone and looked at Dawn. It didn’t appear like she heard anything.

“Are you ready for school, Dawnie?” she asked, adopting an overly-bright tone to her voice.

“Yep. I’m just gonna get me a cup of coffee before I head out.”

“I’ll join you. Giles caught me before I could get one for myself.”

Both girls walked to the kitchen to get their morning caffeine fix. They doctored their coffee to their liking then went to the kitchen table and sat down. Buffy had just taken a sip of coffee when Dawn asked, “So, what’s the deal with Spike?”

Coffee went down the wrong pipe and Buffy started coughing. Dawn just sat there sipping hers, blinking in wide-eyed innocence, waiting for her sister to recover. After a few moments, Buffy was able to get air down to her lungs, rather than coffee. She glared at her sister.

“Not that it’s any of your business...”

“You’re not gonna send him away, are you?”

Seeing anxiety start to creep over her sister’s face, Buffy rushed to reassure her.

“No, Dawnie. You _know_ I’m glad he’s back. I’m not going to be the one to send him away. It’s going to be his choice as to whether or not he wants to stay.”

“It’s about time!” She opined, her good mood quickly restored.

“Hey!”

Dawn just smiled. Finishing her coffee, she stood up, put her cup in the sink then grabbed her books for school.

“I’m off.”

“Okay. Have a good day.”

“You too.”

Dawn winked at Buffy before she walked out the door.

~*~*~*~*~

It was close to lunchtime when Buffy went upstairs to get ready for her daily workout with the girls. She carried a mug of blood for Spike with her. 

Spike was lying on his back in all his glory. The sheet that would have provided a modicum of modesty had managed to fall well below his waist. Too good an opportunity to pass up, in her mind. Setting the mug on the dresser, she tiptoed over to the bed, quietly stripping out of her clothes along the way.

Gingerly, she placed one knee on the end of the bed, glancing at his face to make sure that she hadn’t woken him. Either he was starting to have a really good dream, or his body sensed her presence. His cock started to get hard, right before her eyes. She stopped crawling up the bed when her face came parallel with his growing erection. Without touching his body, she breathed lightly over him. His cock moved of its own accord, reaching up in an attempt to reclaim the warm caress of her breath. With a wicked glint in her eye, she scooped her hair in one hand. No point in alerting him to her presence just yet by having her hair fall across his thighs. Without so much as a touch of her finger along his length, she opened her mouth and enveloped his cock.

Spike’s hips shot up off the bed, a groaned “bloody hell” escaping his lips.

His head flew back in utter ecstasy, ridges rippled along his brow, and Buffy knew instinctively that if she could see his eyes, they’d be yellow instead of blue. She loved that she could drive him that crazy, make him lose control so completely. It made her wet just thinking about it. The night before last had been about reconnecting; their first time frenzied in an attempt to soothe their bodies after a long separation. Then, it had been slow – a first for them. Yesterday in the shower they’d been playful before the haze of lust had claimed their bodies and Spike had pounded into her body as the shower rained water upon them. Last night, Spike had once more been tender, as if to eradicate any hint of the demon inside. And while he had been passionate in his lovemaking, he had been careful to conceal the brutality that had defined their relationship a few years back. But, part of Buffy needed that – a taste of the violence that was swirling inside her.

She refused to let Spike deny it, as if it didn’t exist.

Since he was wide-awake now, there was no point in holding her hair back. Releasing it, she allowed it to tumble down around her, providing a silky curtain around her face. Buffy proceeded to love him with her hands and mouth, driving him wild, wanting that blessed control of his to snap.

Spike’s hands made fists into the sheets. His force of will great, as he attempted to hold his demon at bay. But the Slayer seemed determined to release it as she scraped her nails down his side.

Buffy could feel the blood pounding in her lower region. Moisture dampened the curls between her legs. She needed release, now. It was time to make him lose that control he so desperately guarded.

Spike almost sighed when she finally released his swollen cock from her mouth. He’d been so close, so close to taking her and ravaging—

He felt her teeth sliding over the length of him from the base up towards the head. His eyes flew wide and his control snapped.

Spike sat up and pulled Buffy’s mouth off his cock, then flipped her onto her stomach. Lifting her ass off the bed, he slammed into her from behind. The Slayer moaned at the force of his invasion, but it did nothing to stop him as he pounded into her.

Buffy needed this, this roughness. The barely stemmed violence that made her blood thrum though her body. Not all the time like it had been in the past; but every once in a while it was nice. She was near mindless with his possessive need, the sheer savagery of his taking.

Spike reached in front of Buffy and started fingering her clit. Even in his mindless haze, he thought enough to bring the Slayer along with him. No matter what he did, however, she couldn’t reach the end. It was killing him, being poised at the edge. He could hear the Slayer’s blood pounding away, see it in the veins running along her neck. His mouth watered. The demon wanted. And he lowered his head to nuzzle at her neck.

“Yes,” she hissed, and that was the end for him. He struck blindly, his fangs sinking deep into the flesh where neck and shoulder met. She screamed and shuddered beneath him, unable to withstand the onslaught. Spike was right behind her.

Spike slowly became aware of his surroundings and felt his demon recede. Carefully, he pulled out of the Slayer, groaning slightly as he did so. He flopped onto his back and pulled Buffy into his arms. He could see the marks he left on her neck and gently ran his tongue over the puncture wounds. He could still taste her. Resisting the urge for more, he placed a kiss on each hole.

“Buffy, I…” He tilted her chin up so he could look her in the eye.

“Shhh…Don’t.” Buffy placed a finger over his lips. “It’s okay, Spike. I wanted you to. I needed this, you needed this. It doesn’t always have to be this way though. Like it was before. But, we can’t deny it. It’s there. And, I trust you.” Spike relaxed back into the mattress. He had been worried, unsettled that they’d somehow end up reverting to the way things had been before. Now that he had a taste of what making love to her could be like, he didn’t think he could handle going back to the violent coupling that had marked their previous relationship.

Still sensing his unease with what happened, Buffy leaned her head back a bit, exposing the marks on her neck.

“Show me.” Spike didn’t understand at first what she was talking about. Grabbing a fistful of her hair, she draped it over the shoulder of her recently marked neck. Seeing the mark that he had left, he allowed the demon to come forth. Slowly, she lowered her chest back onto his, bringing her neck close to his fangs. He couldn’t refuse the invitation. Grabbing a fistful of her hair he lightly tugged her head to the side, exposing more of her vulnerable neck. Leaning up, he once more sunk his fangs into her neck.

_‘Oh, God!’_

His cock hardened instantly at the taste of slayer blood on his tongue. Sensing what he needed, Buffy slowly slid back down onto him. Barely draining any of her blood, Spike let her ride him. Just having his fangs in her neck was driving him crazy though, and when he could stand it no more, he flipped her onto her back and let himself go, never once releasing her neck. Buffy couldn’t stop the tremors that began at her inner core and worked outward until her whole body was shaking. Her orgasm was long and hard. Spike wanted to keep driving into her slick heat, but slayer muscles squeezed him so tight, he was unable to hold back. Finally releasing her neck, he reared back, yelling her name as his release claimed him, his yellow eyes blazing.

His features evened out yet again and he collapsed on the bed beside the Slayer, pulling her back into his arms.

“I hate to get up, but I’ve got a bunch of girls waiting on the third floor for me.” She glanced over at the clock, dismayed at noting the time. She was late! With a shriek, she jumped up out of bed. She swayed slightly from the slight loss of blood, but more from the way her body had been so wickedly used. Shaking it off, she darted over to the dresser.

Spike propped his hands behind his head and watched the Slayer as she raced frantically around the room, trying to find some clothes. A soft chuckle escaped his lips. Buffy heard it and stopped what she was doing to glare at him.

“It’s your fault I’m late.”

“My fault? How you figure that, Slayer? You’re the one that woke me up, remember?” Buffy blushed at that. “Not that I’m complainin’, mind you. Not in the least. Feel free to wake me up like that anytime.” He flashed a wicked grin.

“Can I help it that I was distracted because you were lying in bed without a stitch of clothing on?”

Spike chuckled. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he stood up, grabbed his jeans from the floor and put them on. Padding barefoot across the floor, he opened the bedroom door.

“Go take a quick shower, luv. I’ll keep the girls entertained until you get there.” And with that, he closed the door behind him and was gone.

Buffy was about to go after him, to demand that he put some more clothes on, but changed her mind. She headed for the shower instead.


	8. Chapter 8

The cloak-clad figure stood before the fire once again, deep in thought.

 _‘The advent of all these new slayers is tied to two people, the witch that created the spell and the Chosen One. Eliminate one and the spell is broken. The world goes back to only the two slayers, Buffy and Faith. The witch is too powerful, anyone that was able to pull off the spell in the first place would be. But, the slayer.’_ He chuckled ruefully. _‘Now she is vulnerable.’_

Even though that vampire guarded her, there were ways to get around him. It would just be a matter of timing. It wouldn’t even take any real fighting on his part. Thanks to the book, he had the means to take down the Slayer without having to resort to violence. It may take a little longer to see the effects, a week perhaps, but it would work. All without exposing himself or his agenda.

Turning away from the fire, he left the room to set his plans in motion.

~*~*~*~*~

Spike left a sleeping Slayer and made his way downstairs to the office to use the phone. He hadn’t wanted to worry her, so he had waited until she’d drifted off to sleep before quietly sneaking out of bed. But he need to see what – if anything – that scroll Wesley had stumbled upon had anything to do with what he could feel was coming. Spike picked up the phone and dialed the number to Wolfram & Hart. He hated to involve Angel, but he needed to make sure that scroll had nothing to do with Buffy. And he needed to see if Angel was also feeling the vibes that he was feeling. He figured that since Angel had a gateway to the senior partners he could actually put the paper-pushing ponce to work. Besides, if something evil were about to happen, the boys at Wolfram & Hart would hear about it first. It would just be a matter of twisting the right arm for the information. Or the right neck.

“Wolfram & Hart, how may I direct your call?” a female voice enquired.

“I need to speak with the— uh, Angel,” Spike said.

“One moment, please.”

“Angel’s office, how may I help you?” Harmony asked.

“Harmony, is Angel there?”

“Blondie-bear! How are—?”

Spike interrupted her. “Harmony, just put Angel on the phone. It’s important.”

“Uh, right, sure. Lemme see if he’s in.” A pause. “Spike, he’s not in his office. He’s probably pow-wowing with Wesley and Gunn down in Wesley’s office. Something or other about a new prophecy.”

“Damn. Hey, ring me to Wes’ office.” Spike heard a few clicks, and then Wesley’s voice came on the line. Well, it sounded like Wesley’s voice anyway. It was hard to tell with the speakerphone.

“This is Wesley.”

“Wes, it’s Spike.” The other occupants in the room stopped what they were doing and looked at the phone.

“Spike?”

“Yeah. So tell me, did you guys ever get that scroll translated?”

“Er, yeah. We’re just not quite sure what it means yet.”

“Whatsit? Bloody connection.”

“I said that we’ve translated the document as best we can. We’re just not sure what it means, exactly.”

“Look, the Slayer and me, we’re getting a bad vibe. Nothing specific. Just a feeling, really. I don’t bloody well like it either.”

“Spike?” This from Fred.

“Hey, pet. How are things?”

“I can’t complain,” she said with a smile in her voice, and a sideways look at Wesley. “How are you?”

“Not bad, pet. Except for this weird feeling ‘m havin’. Almost like the calm before a bloody storm.”

The tunnel-voice abruptly ended when Angel picked up the phone. “Tell me.”

“Good day to you too, peaches.” Spike scowled into the phone. “Look. I’m not likin’ this. Not one bit. It’s not just me either. The Slayer feels it too. She’s worried, but isn’t sayin’ anything, as usual. She’s got Giles looking in things as well. I think you should send a copy of the text and translation to him. See if he can help you guys out.”

“I’ll get Fred on it. I would have sent something before, but Buffy isn’t exactly trusting me right now. Speaking of, how is she?”

“She’s good. Got a whole passel of li’l slayers running around here. Enough to creep out even a master vampire like myself.”

“Little slayers?” Angel asked confused.

“Oh, right. Buffy trains the younger girls that became slayers when Red cast that spell back in Sunnydale. You know how that went. Bloody slayers were poppin’ up everywhere. Some are too young to deal with it. Buffy helps.” Usually, slayers weren’t called until they were fifteen or so, but when Willow did the spell, it included all potentials, no matter their age. Most had no idea of the gift they had been given. Hence, the slayer school.

“Oh,” Angel replied, shaking the image of little Spikes and Buffys running around. He so did not want to go there. “Anyway, stuff’s on its way to Giles. Keep me posted on your end.” _‘Keep her safe.’_ he silently voiced. “I’ll let you know if we find out anything here.”

“Right.” _‘I will.’_ Spike replied, ringing off. Silently, he made his way back upstairs.

~*~*~*~*~

Spike quietly closed the door to Buffy’s room. Looking towards the bed he could make out her figure underneath the sheet. He didn’t like what he saw. The Slayer was thrashing around in bed, moaning in her sleep. He hurried towards the bed to try to get her to wake up.

_Buffy walked through the hallway towards the training room. It was quiet. Too quiet. Dawn was at school, but the other girls should have been getting ready for their workout. Buffy was getting a bad feeling. Hurrying the rest of the way down the hall, she quickly threw open the door to the training room. Angelina, Francesca, Lionna, and the others were lying on the floor, blood pooling onto the ground from their numerous wounds. She froze for a moment from the sight that greeted her, but quickly recovered and ran to the closest body. Bending down, she turned over Angelina checking for any sign of consciousness. Nothing. She hurriedly checked the other girls, but it was too late. Tears began silently falling unchecked down her face._

_Standing up, she backed carefully out of the room. Her hand was covering her mouth, trying to hold back the screams._

_‘I’ve got to get to Dawn!’_

_Turning, she ran down the hallway and practically flew down the two flights of stairs to the first floor. On her way to the front door she heard a shrill ring. She couldn’t place the sound. Then she remembered. The telephone._

_Reversing her steps, she ran to the phone. In her agitation, she dropped it. The sound of the phone connecting with the wooden floor resounded through the quiet building. Recovering quickly, she picked up the phone._

_‘Dawn!?’ she shouted, panic evident in her voice._

_‘Buffy, it’s Giles.’_

_‘Wha… Giles? I can’t talk right now. I’ve got to find Dawn. Something bad has happened.’_

_‘Buffy, wait. It’s not just there. It’s everywhere. The slayers are gone.’_

_‘How? That can’t happen. There’s too many of us now. They can’t get us all.’_

_‘It’s you, Buffy. It’s tied to you.’_

_‘Huh? You’re not making sense, Giles.’ Buffy glanced at the mirror beside the phone. She let out a muffled scream, the phone slipping from her fingers as she brought them up to touch her face. Her normal tanned complexion was pasty-white, her veins protruding blue through her translucent skin._

_‘Buffy. Buffy!’ Giles’ voice was calling frantically to her from the dropped connection. She was unable to support her weight and slide silently to the floor._

_‘Nooooo…’ she whimpered. ‘Noooo…’_

Just as Spike reached the bed, the Slayer went deathly still. If his heart were actually beating, it would have stopped. He leaned over her, grabbed her by the shoulders and started shaking her.

“Buffy, wake up! Wake up, dammit! Slayer!” He continued to shake her. Abruptly, her eyes opened and she gasped as she sat up in bed, instinctively reaching for Spike.

“Hush, luv. I’ve got you. It was just a bad dream. I’m here now,” he said as he held her in his arms. She was openly weeping and Spike continued to soothe her until she wound down.

After a while, he held her at arm’s length so that he could look at her. She got out a muffled, “slayer dream.”

“Tell me what happened,” he urged as he nestled her into his side once more.

In a halting breath, Buffy told him that she was making her way to the training room, but was getting spooked because it was so quiet. She told him about how all the girls were dead, that she was trying to get to Dawn when Giles called saying that all the slayers were dead. She told him that she could see herself dying right before she woke up.

When Spike heard that, his grip on her tightened. She didn’t seem to mind, however. Instead, took comfort in his tight embrace.

“I won’t let anything happen to you. You’re safe with me.” He spoke more to convince himself than her. He wouldn’t be able to go on if something were to happen to her. He’d died once to protect her, and he’d gladly do it again if it meant that she would live.

Buffy squirmed in his hold attempting to get out of bed.

“Where are you going?”

“I’ve got to check on Dawn.”

“I’ll go. You stay here.” He placed a quick kiss to her forehead and let her lay back in bed. “I’ll be right back.” Spike left the room to make sure that Dawn was alright.

When Spike left, Buffy got up and went to the bathroom. Turning on the cold-water tap, she cupped her hands under the running water, getting a handful before she brought it to her face. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she was grateful to see her normal, slightly tanned complexion. She took a few deep breaths to slow her heart rate, sure that Spike could hear the pounding of her heart all the way down the hall.

As far as slayer dreams went, this one had been a doozy. She could almost feel herself dying in her dream, and she definitely had some experience with that feeling. Only, this one hadn’t been a blissful death. It was filled with a pain so deep, she could hardly contain it. The sharpness of it had leaked over into her consciousness. Its deadly talons digging at her from the inside out.

Resolutely, she put the dream from her mind.

As she stepped out of the bathroom, she looked up to see Spike shutting the bedroom door. At a questioning look from her, he said, “She’s fine. Sleeping like a baby.”

“We’ll need to call Giles,” Buffy said.

“We will. In the morning. Right now, you need to get back to sleep.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“Then I’m sure I can think of something to occupy our time.” Spike bore the Slayer back to bed, and true to his word, he kept her busy until the first rays of the sun could be seen behind the thick curtains.


	9. Chapter 9

Rome

They lay together, wrapped in each other’s arms, until they could hear Dawn getting ready for school. Sighing, Buffy disentangled herself from Spike and got out of bed. She threw on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. Giles was due to call soon and she needed to get to the study. Spike sat up in bed as well, the sheet falling down his naked chest to pool in his lap. He didn’t want Buffy to have to explain things on her own, so he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. He grabbed a pair of his jeans from the bottom drawer, still surprised that she had kept his things. He padded barefoot to the door, a few steps behind her.

“You don’t have to come with me,” Buffy told him over her shoulder.

“Buffy. I’m here. I’m not gonna let you go through this alone. Besides, I need to speak with Giles as well.”

Buffy cocked her head to the side, giving him a questioning look. He just shook his head at her. “Not here.” Quietly, they made their way downstairs.

~*~*~*~*~

If nothing else, Giles’ phone call was like clockwork. Promptly at eight, the phone began to ring. Buffy picked up the extension before the second ring could finish.

“Hi, Giles,” Buffy said into the phone.

“Er...Buffy. Hello. My, that was fast.”

“I was waiting for you. I’ve got something bad to tell you. I think I’ve had another slayer dream,” she rushed out, a catch in her voice. Hearing this, Spike came around the desk, displaced her so he could sit, then settled her on his lap.

Buffy was grateful for his support. She didn’t know how she would get through the story without his presence. Every time she relived the dream, tears welled in her eyes. Spike, for his part, just continued to soothe her with his touch. Soon, Buffy was finished with her story. He took the phone from her and spoke to Giles.

“Giles, Angel is going to be couriering something to you. Something that showed up at their place before I left. It may not even have anything to do with Buffy’s dream… Right. Well, I’m here. I’ll look out for her.” Spike rattled off Angel’s number in Los Angeles. “Wesley deals with most of the translation stuff, so he’d be your point of contact. Let us know what you come up with. I’ve got a bad feeling, and Buffy’s dreams aren’t helping matters.”

Moments later, Spike replaced the phone on the hook. Waiting for the backlash from Buffy, he was surprised when none was forthcoming. Guiltily, he looked up at her. Whereas before she would have been all over him for withholding information, now she waited patiently for him to explain.

“Sorry, luv. I didn’t want to worry you. Besides, I’m not sure it has anything to do with us. Probably doesn’t, even. I just don’t trust the wanker not to mess it up, so I told the poof... uh, Angel, to send what he had to Giles. If anyone can suss this out, it would be Giles.”

Buffy smiled. She gave Spike a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. Growling, Spike grabbed the back of her head to give her a real kiss.

“Hey, none of that. Dawnie will be coming down those stairs in just a moment.” Looking towards the door, the person under discussion peeped her head in. 

“Hey, guys!”

“Hey, Dawnie. Ready for school?” Buffy asked as she pushed herself off Spike’s lap. She gave Spike a “you couldn’t tell she was there?” exasperated look. If she thought he could blush, she figured his face would be bright red right about now.

“Hey, ‘Bit,” Spike got out, a little strained. Quietly he said to Buffy, “You go ahead. I’ll be along in a few.” Buffy blushed as she headed for the door to join Dawn. There was no mistaking the bulge she felt when she slipped off Spike’s lap.

Spike closed his eyes and tried to will away his hard-on.

~*~*~*~*~

England

Giles stood up from behind his desk when he heard his fax machine click on. Walking over to the machine, he looked at the cover sheet. True to Spike’s word, the gang from Wolfram & Hart was sending what they had on the mysterious prophecy they had received. Putting down the cover sheet, he walked out of his office to get a cup of tea.

On his way back into his office, he saw that the fax machine had clicked off. He grabbed the stack and sat at his desk to look them over. Briefly scanning the pages, he saw that Wesley had included the text in its original form as well as a translated copy. The translated copy he put aside for now. He didn’t want to be biased as he attempted to translate the document himself.

An extensive library of books lining one whole wall of his office, and he quickly scanned through several rows, randomly selecting several texts as he went that he placed in easy reach while he worked.

~*~*~*~*~

Rome

“What’s taking him so long?”

“’Luv, he just got the stuff from Wesley a few days ago,” Spike said. “It’s not like he’s got the Scoobies to help him like before. Besides, I’m sure he wants to take his time to make sure he gets it right. He’s been callin’ you every day with an update. Just be patient, pet.”

Buffy looked up from her journal to stare at Spike. She had taken to writing her thoughts down in the aftermath of Sunnydale. Well, more like forced to; but that was another story. She had never been good at voicing her feelings, but by writing them down, she had eventually been able to cope after Spike had died. In the first months after she left behind the crater that was had been Sunnydale, her journal had kept her sane. It allowed her to talk to Spike, allowed her to still be close to him, maintain some form of connection. Even though she had him back with her now, she still wrote in her journal every day. Maybe one day she would get up the courage to show it to him. Then, he would understand the depths of her feelings for him. Her journal housed all the feelings, desires, and words that she had been unable to voice aloud. And that she still had some trouble with saying. But, she was getting better at that. Slowly.

Spike never asked her about what she was writing. He just assumed it was slayer-related. A sort of progress report done for her trainees. He respected her privacy, and just watched quietly each day as she wrote away. Usually, he had a book out and read while she was writing. He enjoyed the almost-normalcy of their special quiet time. It was something they never really had before, this companionable silence.

“I’m trying.”

Spike glanced up from the book he was reading to look at the Slayer. In the week he had been there, he had noticed a change in her appearance. Gone were the dark circles under her eyes. Gone, too, was the sallow, washed-out complexion. Her eyes sparkled with life now and she had a healthy glow to her skin. She had started to put on a few pounds now that she was eating properly and not training until she dropped from sheer exhaustion.

“I know you are, pet. I told you, it prob’ly has nothin’ to do with us anyway. C’mere, luv.” He beckoned her to his side.

Sighing, Buffy closed her journal. She unfolding her feet from beneath her and stood up, put away her journal in the hope chest that housed all her personal possessions before joining Spike on the bed. His arms wrapped around her and she laid her head on his chest, sighing when Spike ran his fingers through her hair. She’d had it cut a few days ago so it only fell midway down her back and now it gleamed with renewed vitality.

“No sense borrowin’ trouble before it’s here. Giles will suss it all out, Wesley too. In the meantime, you’ve got me here and I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

Buffy closed her eyes and let his soothing words and tender touch calm her.


	10. Chapter 10

The cloak-clad figure stood with his back to the hearth while the minion brought everything in that was needed. He’d had to fast for a week to prepare his body for the rigors needed to create the elixir that would bring about the destruction of the Slayer. Silently, he watched while everything was prepared to his satisfaction. The minion worked quickly to get everything laid out as it should be. Once done, he stood back from the table, his head bowed in a manner of subservience towards his master.

“Leave me.” The minion bowed quietly and left the room, soundlessly shutting the door on the way out.

Stepping away from the fire, the figure slowly approached the table. He reached up to remove the cloak from his head, revealing silky black hair that fell in waves down to his shoulders. Various markings were etched into his cheeks and forehead. His black gaze swept over the contents of the table, assuring everything was to his satisfaction. Appeased that all was as it should be, he removed the cloak from his body. Well-defined muscle showed in his chest and arms. Markings were etched in his taut, olive skin all over his upper body. His eyes flashed red and his markings began to glow as he began to make the elixir that would bring about the destruction of the blond Slayer, and with her, all the other slayers created that fateful day. _‘Soon, my King, it will be as it was before. And then we will rule this Earth.’_

Reading from a book that was ancient long before his own time, he carefully combined the ingredients needed. Softly, he began to chat in a language so old, no written record of it was still in existence. The bowl containing the mixed ingredients began to vibrate on the wooden table. Wind blew on the flames of candles scattered throughout the room, the only means of light. Shadows shifted, and a blue, hazy mist materialized above the bowl. The chanting became louder, more forceful until it built to a fevered climax. Then, silence. The markings on his body began to fade; his eyes faded from red to once again become black, opaque circles. Coming out of his semi-trancelike state, he glanced in the bowl. Staring down at the deep blue liquid, an evil smile came to his face. _‘It’s ready,’_ Damius thought to himself. _‘Now it’s time to introduce the Slayer to death.’_

~*~*~*~*~

“Nothing yet, Buffy. I’m still working on it,” Giles voice sounded in her ear.

“Thanks, Giles. I’ll talk to you tomorrow then,” Buffy replied, then hung up the phone in her office. _‘Damn!’_

Buffy was starting to get impatient. Truth be told, she’d passed impatient days ago. Each day, Giles called to update her on the progress of the prophecy he received from Angel. Each day it was the same answer. Absolutely nothing. She was ready to pull her hair out from frustration. Actually, it made her kill a few extra demons each night then go back home to make love to Spike for a few hours.

It had been a great week. She was eating better and wasn’t dropping from exhaustion each night. Now, she could at least get a decent night’s rest. The Sunnydale dream hadn’t returned, which was a good thing. And there had been no more prophetic slayer dreams, either. Though, she still couldn’t shake the feeling of impending doom.

Grumpily, she got up and made her way upstairs to spend time with her vampire before she needed to head to the third floor to start her workout session with her girls.

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy, Spike, and the young slayers slowly made their way through the cemetery, senses alert for any demons. Buffy grabbed Spike’s arm to let the other girls move a little ahead of them. He stopped, head cocked to the side. _‘Vampires. Two of them,’_ he thought. Silently, he held up two fingers. Buffy nodded, agreeing. Buffy upended the sword she was carrying so that the tip was resting lightly in the ground. Spike swung the axe he was carrying loosely over his shoulder. Standing still, they watched the scene play out before them.

Angelina, who was leading the pack of girls, saw them first. Two vampires had cornered a man out walking his dog, poised and ready to attack. Pulling out her stake from beneath her jacket she got their attention.

“Hey! Leave him alone!” she yelled. The two vampires looked away from their dinner only to be confronted by not one, but ten girls. The girls quickly fanned out to surround the two vampires. The man picked up his dog, running away from the vampires. Safely behind the girls surrounding the vampires, he could only get out half asked questions: “What…are? Are you?” The man was close to fainting from shock as he approached Buffy. She took one hand off the hilt of the sword and placed it on his shoulder, getting the man’s attention.

“It’s ok. Just go on home. We’ll handle this,” she said. Dazed, he wandered off towards home, mumbling under his breath. Buffy gazed after him to make sure he was going to be all right. Satisfied, she once again turned her attention towards the action going on. Even though the girls outnumbered the vamps ten-to-two, they weren’t all that experienced. This evened the odds out a little bit. That’s why Spike and Buffy were there as backup.

The concern on her face gave way to a slight smile. What the girls lacked in experience, they more than made up for in teamwork. Angelina and Francesca distracted the first vamp long enough for Kat to position herself behind him, stake ready. All that remained was a forceful jab. Kat rammed the stake through the vamp’s back, straight into his heart. It gave out a loud yell, and then vaporized to dust between the three girls. The second vamp, seeing his friend meet his end, attempted to run. Suddenly, he stopped and stared at something in the distance. Buffy and Spike, seeing the vamp’s gaze, turned and looked at the far side of the cemetery.

At the edge of the cemetery stood a man cloaked from head to toe. Six vampires surrounded him. Buffy quickly pulled the sword point out of the ground and assumed a defensive stance. She motioned for the girls to fall back behind Spike and herself. Just then, the vamps attacked. They avoided Buffy and aimed straight for the girls. Spike put himself between the vampires and the young slayers and vamped out as the first wave reached him. The vampires were obviously not that skilled and Spike dusted two in a matter of seconds.

_‘Guess that leaves the mysteriously cloaked one for me,’_ Buffy thought, as she engaged the new enemy. Sword at the ready, she waited for her attacker. It wasn’t long in coming. Seeing that the vampires had the others distracted, he made his move. He ran towards the Slayer, arms shoulder high, sword poised to attack. As he got close, he swung his sword down, attempting to embed his sword in her shoulder. Buffy waited until the last second before bringing her sword up to block. And so it began. The fighters were well matched. Neither could gain the edge over the other. During the battle, the hood fell from his head. Buffy noticed the black hair, olive skin complexion, and weird markings on his face; she filed the information away for later.

Without warning, one of the remaining vampires broke off from the other girls and attempted to take out Buffy. Seeing his intention, Spike intercepted the vampire before it reached her, but it was enough for Buffy to momentarily take her eyes off her attacker. It was the opening he needed. In that brief moment of distraction, he swung his sword in a wide arc, slicing Buffy’s midsection. She cried out in pain as the force of the blow spun her sideways. She fell to her knees clutching her stomach.

“Buffy!” Spike yelled. Enraged, he quickly dusted the vamp and ran to put himself between her and her attacker. Realizing that the distraction the vampires had provided was almost at an end, the cloaked figure smirked at the vampire standing guard in front of the Slayer.

“Some other time, vampire,” he said, and twirling on his heel, swiftly left the cemetery.

Spike would have liked nothing better than to go after him, but he could smell Buffy’s blood on the air as it poured out of her wound. He needed to get her back home so he could tend to her injury.

 _‘Count on it,’_ he thought. When he realized that no other dangers were present in the cemetery he backtracked to Buffy, passed off his axe to one of the girls, then he bent down and carefully lifted Buffy up into his arms.

“’s ok, luv. I’ve got ya. You’ll be right as rain in no time.”

Slowly, he made his way home, Buffy cradled gently in his arms.


	11. Chapter 11

_‘Everything is going exactly as planned. The Slayer suspects nothing more than an additional attack on her little group tonight.’_

Damius pulled the hood of his cloak down off his head as he made his way back towards his temporary living quarters. Black eyes briefly flicked red.

Before leaving to confront the Slayer, Damius had liberally applied the potion he had made to the sword he still carried in his hands. All he had needed to do was break the skin in order for the poison to be absorbed into her body. Now, he just had to sit back and wait as the toxin slowly spread outward from the wound he’d inflicted; eventually, it would kill her. With her slayer healing it would, in all likelihood, take a bit longer, but she was no match against the poison now working its way through her body. In the end, she would die, and along with her, all the other slayers.

_‘Except Faith. Then there will be only one.’_

~*~*~*~*~

Spike swept through the front door held open for him by Lionna.

“Someone bring me the first aid kit. The rest of you go to bed. And, be quiet. I don’t want the ‘Bit waking up.”

He made quick work of climbing the stairs, careful not to jar Buffy as he headed for her room. He nudged the partially opened bedroom door with his foot, sending it swinging inward, then walked over to the bed. He leaned over and laid Buffy down on top of the covers, his eyes scanning her body, inventorying her injuries as he did so. Her face was pale, probably due to shock. Blood covered the front of her shirt and spilled onto her arms where she was holding them over the front of her wound, trying to stem the blood flow. Just then, Kat walked in bearing the first aid kit.

“Here you go, Spike,” she whispered, handing him the box of medical supplies. “Do you want me to stay and help?”

“No, we’ll be fine. The Slayer’s been through worse than this scratch.” Even as he said the words, he didn’t entirely believe them. Something about the attack just didn’t sit well with him. The vampires were too inept, the mysterious cloaked person had been too focused on Buffy. Pushing his wayward thoughts aside, he took the first aid kit over to Buffy and set about getting her taken care of. He barely noticed the young slayer’s departure.

“Let’s have us a look-see, luv.”

Reluctantly, Buffy removed her arms from her wound. Spike pulled out the dagger he kept hidden in his boot, and with painstaking care, slit the front of her shirt from neck to hem. The shirt parted to reveal an eight-inch long gash just above her belly button. Blood continued to ooze out of the wound. Spike grabbed some gauze and used it to apply pressure to the cut. After a few minutes, he lifted the gauze away from her body to get a better look. _‘Not as deep as I thought,’_ he thought to himself. Aloud, he said, “I’m gonna have to stitch this up, luv.”

Buffy just closed her eyes and gave a weak nod. Spike reached into the kit and grabbed the antiseptic and some more gauze. He liberally doused the gauze then applied it to her stomach. Her breath left her in a “whoosh” as her eyes welled up from the pain. Spike lifted his gaze from the task at hand to look at Buffy. His own eyes were equally moist as he conveyed his apology. Sorry, still, as he had yet to do the worst damage, knitting her skin together with needle and thread.

Spike forced himself not to flinch with each jab of the needle into Buffy’s skin. Her indrawn breath was like a whip to his bare back, each stitch he made a reminder that he’d not been fast enough... and his girl had suffered for it. He finished the last stitch and cut the thread, then covered it with more bandages and gauze.

"Let’s get this wrapped around you, yeah?"

Buffy nodded and he helped her out of her shirt and bra, making it easier - and quicker - for him to work. When he was finished, he helped Buffy to the chair so that he could change the sheets on the bed. That was accomplished quickly and before long, he had her back in bed and snuggled beneath the covers.

“I’ll be right back, luv. Just gonna get rid of this stuff.”

Buffy nodded and closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep to escape the pain.

Spike stood up and grabbed the discarded clothes and linens and threw them in the hamper on the way to the bathroom. Buffy’s wound had bled profusely and he’d been nearly covered from head to toe with her blood before he managed to get her stitched up; a quick shower was in order.

It was only once he was back in bed, getting as close to Buffy as he dared without hurting her that his mind turned to the cloaked figure. For hours, Spike went over the events of the night, trying to figure out what was nagging him. Finally giving up near dawn. He wanted to hit something, frustrated because he couldn’t figure it out. Instead, he inched closer to Buffy and rested his hand on her hip, closed his eyes and slept.

~*~*~*~*~

_She sat on a rock staring at the flames of the fire burning before her. A shadowy figure moved in and out behind the flames, crouching on her haunches. She couldn’t tell what it was. Hints of a woman, dreadlocks, a painted face._

_‘I…I’m sorry, I…I’m just a little confused. I’m full of love, which is nice, and ... love will lead me to my gift?’_

_‘Yes.’_

_‘I’m getting a gift? Or, or do you mean that, that I have a gift to give to someone else?’_

_‘Death is your gift.’_

_‘Death…’_

_‘Is your gift.’_

Buffy woke with a start, her eyes flew open, wide and unseeing. She would have jolted to an upright position, but the cool arms wrapped around her prevented her from moving. Waking took away the numbness sleep provided, and the pain in her abdomen caused her to clutch her hands over the bandages covering her midsection. She couldn’t prevent her muffled groan.

The noise woke Spike, and he lifted his head from the pillow so he could look at her.

“What is it, luv?”

“Nothing. Just a dream. I don’t even remember it,” she lied.

“’s okay. I won’t let anything happen to you. Close your eyes and try to go back to sleep.”

Buffy fidgeted for a moment, trying to get comfortable. She scooted as close to Spike as she could without aggravating her wound. A tremor shook her slight frame. She hated to lie to Spike, but she had no explanation for her dream. And what was even more peculiar was that she had already had this particular dream. Definitely a first – a repeat slayer dream. She distinctly remembered it from the quest she and Giles had undertaken in an attempt to deal with Glory a few years back. She’d ended up jumping off a tower to save the world, dying in the process.

She hated to think about something like that happening again; she wasn’t ready to go back to heaven yet now that Spike was back in her life. With a soft sigh, she let the soothing caress of Spike’s fingers lull her back to sleep.

Spike could tell by her even breathing and slower heart rate that she had finally drifted off to sleep. He knew that Buffy was lying to him about her dream, but he didn’t want to push the issue. She needed to heal right now, not argue. And, he could feel a big argument coming on.

_‘In the morning,’_ he thought. _‘We’ll hash this out then. I’m not gonna let her deal with this on her own.’_


	12. Chapter 12

Buffy was pulled from a dreamless sleep as intense pleasure centered in her core and spread outward throughout her entire body. Slightly disoriented from the lingering pain in her stomach and the remnants of sleep, it took her a moment to realize what had awakened her. As her mind slowly came into focus, she realized she was lying on her side, her top leg draped back over Spike’s lean hips. She felt the hard length of Spike’s cock as it slid in and out of her. Ignoring the discomfort she was feeling, Buffy wiggled closer, taking him deeper inside her.

“Mmmmm… god, that feels good,” Spike whispered against her ear. His tongue slowly traced the shell before nibbling on her lobe, and he was rewarded with a quick squeeze of his cock as her muscles contracted around him. Hoping for more of the same, Spike palmed one of the Buffy’s breasts in his hand, teased the nipple with thumb and forefinger. She arched into his touch, and Spike wanted nothing more than to lean over her body and take it in his mouth, coax the tiny bud into an even harder peak. The only thing that stayed him was the thought of aggravating the stitches on her stomach. So he contented himself to use just his hands... which he did. Teasing first one, and then the other until she was writhing in front of him, begging for release, for an end to his torment.

“Please, Spike,” she whispered yet again. Finally yanking his hand off her breast and shoving it between her legs.

Spike couldn’t help but chuckle at her less than subtle hint.

“Had enough, Slayer?”

“Yes.”

Spike took pity on her and turned his attention to bringing Buffy off, but still mindful of her injury. His fingers went to work on her clit and he increased the force of his thrusts just enough for her to notice.

“Not hurting you, am I?”

“No. Oh god. Right there. Right... yes... ” Buffy could feel herself getting close, recognizing the telltale sign of her impending orgasm. Blunt teeth nibbled on her neck and that was all the impetus she needed. She felt Spike’s hips thrust against her backside as he responded to her climax; the sound of flesh smacking together increased in volume as he now strove for his own release. His hand moved to her hip, holding her in place, and he thrust once, twice. On the third, he was gasping her name against the back of her neck, buried so deep Buffy didn’t know where he ended and she began.

“’Mornin, luv,” Spike whispered in her ear, once they’d both recovered. Groaning when her muscles clamped down on his cock when he made to withdraw. 

“Morning.”

“How are you feelin?” A blissful sigh escaped her lips. Spike chuckled. “I meant the wound, luv.”

Buffy blushed even more under her already flushed face, and Spike’s stomach received a quick elbow for his teasing. A silent gasp escaped her lips at the pain the movement caused.

“Ow. That hurt, Slayer.”

“Good. Teach you to tease me,” she replied, trying to cover her pain, not answering his original question. Her slayer healing should have already been working miracles on her wound, and she was surprised that she was still feeling the aftereffects of last night’s battle.

Spike, however, wasn’t deterred in the least. He’d heard her hitched breath when she’d jabbed him. “Buffy?” he called her name, concerned. He was starting to feel guilty about making love to her this morning, especially since she still appeared to be somewhat sore.

“It’s nothing. I’ll be fine. A little sore. No big.” So saying, she pulled out of his embrace and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Stood and padded silently to the bathroom. Spike watched her go, noticing the hesitancy of her step. He propped himself up against the headboard, waiting for her return.

Buffy froze for a moment upon spying the look Spike gave her as she came out of the bathroom. She tried to afford herself more time to come up with a plausible lie by retreating to her dresser to retrieve a fresh set of clothes. It was only once she was dressed that she faced the vampire still ensconced upon the bed.

“What?” she asked irritably, trying to pick an argument to get his mind off her injury.

Spike wasn’t falling for it, though. Just cocked his head slightly to the side and waited, raised eyebrow silently mocking her.

Knowing she wasn’t going to win caused her to pout. Head lowered, her bottom lip jutted out. Spike flashed a quick grin when she wasn’t paying attention; by the time she was looking his way again, it was gone though. 

“Fine! Damn Willow anyway, teaching you the resolve face! See… It’s just… Damn!” She mentally stomped her foot in childish frustration.

“Ididn’twanttosayanythingbecauseyouwouldjustworry,” she rushed out really quickly, hoping he didn’t understand what she had said. Silence greeted her announcement. “It’s just that, it was just a scratch really. No more. I should be fine. Me with the slayer healing and all.” A little gesturing of her hand in the air soon stopped when she winced in pain. “But, I’m still sore. As you can see. And, I _shouldn’t_ be. And, I don’t know why,” she mumbled the last.

Spike waited, knowing she had more to say. It wasn’t long in coming, though if it weren’t for preternatural hearing…

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she whispered. Thoughts of her dream the night before flitted through her mind.

Spike’s expression softened immediately when it seemed she appeared on the verge of tears. He knew it took a lot for her to lean on someone. Usually, it was the other way around, everyone leaning on her. But not anymore. He got out of bed and walked over to Buffy, pulled her into a loose hug, mindful of her injury.

“It’s probably nothing. You weren’t exactly running at 100% when I showed up. I’m sure you’ll be right as rain in no time.” With all the soul-baring from Buffy, Spike completely forgot about her nightmare from last night.

“I’m sure you’re right,” she replied, a slight smile on her face. Although, Buffy wondered. With the dream she’d had last night, she wasn’t so sure anymore. Putting it from her mind, Buffy put her robe on and made her way downstairs to meet Dawn for breakfast, letting Spike go back to sleep for a few more hours.

“No training today, Slayer,” Spike mumbled as he snuggled into her pillow, wallowing in the scent that was Buffy.

“Right, no training for me today,” she concurred. _‘As if I feel up to it, anyway.’_

~*~*~*~*~

The lure of fresh ground coffee pulled her towards the kitchen. Dawn was sitting at the table with a steaming cup in front of her, reading over her notes. Buffy walked over to the cupboard that housed the mugs so she could pour herself a cup of coffee. Without realizing what she was doing, she attempted to reach over her head to grab a cup. The pain that lanced through her stomach caused her to let out a muted groan, and quickly grab her middle. Dawn glanced up frantically at the sound of pain coming from her sister and noticed her clutching her middle, a pained look on her face. 

“Buffy, what’s wrong?” she cried, rushing to her side. 

“Nothing, Dawnie. I just ran into a nasty last night on patrol. He nicked me above my stomach. Hurts a little to lift my hands over my head. Wasn’t thinking when I reached for a mug.” 

Buffy attempted to distract Dawn with a request for a cup. Thankfully the tactic worked and Buffy retreated to the table while Dawn poured her a cup of coffee. 

“You sure you’re okay?” Dawn asked as she set the mug down in front of Buffy. “I can stay home if you need me too.” 

“Yes, I’m fine. And, no, you don’t need to stay home. Go to school. It’s just a couple of stitches. No big,” she lied. “Spike’s already banned me from training for the day so I can heal.” 

“Ok. If you’re sure?” Buffy assured her she was. “Oh, by the way, Giles called. You must have still been asleep. He said he’d call back about nine our time. Nothing big, just his daily check in.”

“Thanks.” Buffy sat back and sipped her coffee, eyeing Dawn as she moved back to her seat and once more resumed looking at schoolwork. “Whatcha’ working on?”

“Oh, just looking over my notes for history. We have a test today on WWII. Can I just say ewww?”

_‘Ewww, is right,’_ Buffy thought. She nodded at Dawn sympathetically. “Definitely of the ewww. Hey, since I’m off patrol for tonight, you want me to get a couple of movies so we can have movie night?”

“Sounds great,” Dawn replied as she scooped up her stuff so she could head off to school. “Oh, don’t forget the pizza and popcorn!” 

Buffy smiled to herself as she finished her coffee. _‘Another crisis averted,’_ she thought. She picked up her coffee mug and made her way to the office to await Giles’ call. 


	13. Chapter 13

Buffy made her way upstairs after her call with Giles. She hadn’t bothered to tell him about the confrontation the night before. And she sure didn’t tell him about the slayer dream from last night either. He would have been on the first plane to see her to make sure that she was alright, and she didn’t want to have to explain her latest battle scar. She needed him to concentrate on the prophecy he’d received from Wolfram & Hart. A slight shudder went through her at the thought.

_‘Can’t believe Angel thinks he’s accomplishing something in that evil place. I hope he knows what he’s doing.’_

Giles had finished translating the text, and came up with a near exact translation that Wesley had. Like Wesley, he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it either. He was going to do some further research to see if he could get a better understanding of what it all meant. As of now, though, he didn’t think it had anything to do with Buffy, so she could relax a bit.

Buffy went into her bedroom, careful not to disturb the sleeping vampire sprawled out on her bed. She wanted to see her wound, and her bathroom was the only one with a full-length mirror.

_‘Man, I look a mess,’_ she thought, having gotten a good look at herself.

She almost hesitated cutting the bandage off. Resolve stiffened her spine, though, and she grabbed the scissors out of the drawer and made quick work of slicing through each layer wrapped around her middle.

Buffy kept her eyes averted until the last possible moment. Grimaced slightly when she got a clear view of her abdomen. Thirty stitches held the edges of her skin together... thankfully. For a moment there, she’d thought it had opened. Her stomach was littered with various bruises of green, purple, and yellow. The worst was the one surrounding the actual wound. It was more blue than purple, its shape almost symmetrical to the cut.

_‘Weird.’_

Since she wasn’t training with the slayers, she had plenty of time on her hands until either Spike woke, or her sister came home from school. Her body was telling her to join Spike in bed and take a nap; she was tired, surprisingly, even though she’d slept fairly well the night before. Instead, she retreated to the chair after retrieving her journal. 

_I had a slayer dream last night, and it scares me. Although, it wasn’t really a dream so much as a vision I had long ago. I dare not tell anyone about it. Everyone would worry, and I can’t take that right now._

_I’m not being honest. And I said I would always be honest here. I’m not scared, I’m angry._

_Haven’t I done enough? I’m not alone in my fight anymore. There are girls like me all over the world now. I’m not ready to die! I want to see Dawn graduate from high school, then go on to college. I want to be there when she gets married. I want to hold my little nieces and nephews. Dammit, I just got Spike back. I want time with him. Time to make up for that horrible year when I was brought back. Time to tell him, show him, how much I love him._

_It’s just not fair!_

Tears slipped unchecked down her face as she continued to write, pouring her heart and soul into her journal. When her grief, anger, and frustration were spent, she stopped writing and closed her journal and put it back in her chest. Quickly washed her face in the bathroom and then escaped the bedroom after leaving a note for Spike.

~*~*~*~*~

Spike awoke to a quiet room. He found the Slayer’s note when he sat up in bed. 

_Spike,_

_I told Dawn we would have a movie night since I’m not allowed to patrol. I’ve gone out to get a few movies and to put in an order for some pizzas at the local pizzeria. I shouldn’t be gone more than a couple of hours. Can you do me a favor and work with the girls today?_

_Buffy_

Spike grinned as he read the first line. He could just picture her pouting as she wrote that. He groaned when he read the second line. He perked up a bit when he realized he could cuddle with the Slayer while she watched the flick. He scrambled out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Leaving the room, he climbed the stairs to the third floor, listening to the noise coming from the training room. As he got close, the noise stopped. All he heard was the accelerated heartbeats of the slayers.

He opened the door and noticed everyone was facing him, weapon at the ready. A devilish smile transformed his features.

“Felt me coming, didja?” A few nods. “Good!”

“Now, get ready for some real fun. Lose the weapons. We’re gonna work on a little hand-to-hand today.” The girls replaced their weapons and formed a circle around him. Spike took up a fighting stance. The girls followed his lead.

“Now, attack!” Without any further prompting, ten girls rushed him.

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy walked into the house with a small stack of movies under one arm and a delivery receipt for pizza in the other hand. She placed the receipt and keys on the desk and walked into the living room to deposit the movies for viewing later. It was early yet, so she made her way to the third floor to check on Spike and the girls. Various grunts, groans, and crashes filtered out of the room. When she got to the top of the stairs, she could make out some of Spike’s snarky comments directed at some of the less agile girls. A smile crossed her lips.

‘Just like old times.’

Suddenly, a thud, louder than the others, resounded through the room. A yelled, “Bloody Hell!” and a “Dammit, Slayer!” quickly followed. Buffy stood at the door leaning against the doorjamb, taking in the scene. Her hand covered her mouth, barely stifling her giggles. Spike lay in an upside down heap against the far wall. Her girls formed a semi-circle around him, positioned in a defensive pose, waiting for him to get up. He kicked his feet over so he could sit on his butt. His eyes locked with Buffy’s. She dropped the hand that was covering her face and sucked her lips into her mouth to hide her smile. Her eyes still twinkled with mirth, however.

“Do you give up, Spike?” Buffy asked, laughingly.

“Bloody hell, woman. It’s your damn fault I was slumped ass over end here.”

“Me? All I did was walk up the stairs. Not my fault my showing up here distracted you. You’re the master vampire, right?”

“’And don’t you forget it!” he blustered, mock-sternly.

Buffy spoke to the girls saying, “Good job, guys. Why don’t you hit the showers then get ready for your lessons. I know it’s a bit early, but since you knocked Spike on his butt, you deserve a little break. Oh, by the way, tonight’s movie night, no patrolling. Attire is pj’s and bring a pillow and some blankets.” A few girls cheered at this pronouncement. They filed out, leaving Buffy alone with Spike.

“Feelin’ better, luv?” Spike asked as he stood and walked towards her.

“Yeah. I need you to pull my stitches out for me. The wound has closed over. Got one hell of a bruise, though.” They were halfway down the hall when she added, “Oh, and did I mention that it itches?”


	14. Chapter 14

If someone had told him that he would one day be sitting in a living room with a slayer draped over him, half asleep, and eleven other girls laid out on the floor around him watching _How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days_ , he would have laughed his bloody head off. Then he would have gutted the wanker for saying it. But there he sat, watching some blond chick literally snipping the nads off the guy she was dating. The girls were laughing uproariously; Spike just cringed inwardly. 

At least the entire night hadn’t been a total sap-a-thon. The pizza had arrived around six and everyone ate that while watching _The One_. Pretty interesting flick, if a little farfetched. The girls took pity on him and played another action movie after that one before they settled into what they referred to as “chick flicks.” That’s the point where the Slayer had drifted into la la land. He only wished he could join her and ease his suffering. Unfortunately, his sleep schedule didn’t allow him to nod off at only eleven at night even though the movie was bloody awful. After the show, he begged off another, citing Buffy’s sleepiness, and dared anyone to comment on that remark. Grinning at the thought, he once more turned his attention to the antics playing out on the screen.

As soon as the movie ended, he cradled the sleeping slayer in his arms and stood up. “I’ll just take Sleeping Beauty up now. You guys finish yer movie fest.”

Dawn flashed him a wicked grin and said, “You could always come back down and watch another one with us after you put Buffy to bed. We could take an intermission until you get back.” Spike glanced back upon hearing that comment. When he saw the look on her face, he mumbled something that suspiciously sounded like “sod off” before heading out of the room. Dawn’s chuckle sounded softly behind him.

~*~*~*~*~

“Have a nice nap, luv?” Spike knew Buffy wasn’t asleep because he had heard her heart rate slowly increase towards the end of the show. He had been tempted to get up and leave with her right then, but didn’t want to have a blushing slayer on his hands. He settled her softly on top of the bed and looked down at her face. Buffy slowly blinked her eyes awake and tried to fake a yawn. Spike wasn’t buying it.

“Vampire hearing, pet. Knew you’ve been awake for a while.” A chagrined look crossed her face. “Woulda’ left before the movie was over, but didn’t want to shock the kiddies.”

“Oh, you’re bad!” she said, while a blush lit up her face. Reaching behind her, she grabbed a pillow and threw it at him before he had a chance to block it. The pillow bounced off his forehead, disrupting his slicked-back platinum hair. She giggled when she saw some of the strands start to curl up and frame his face.

He looked at her in mock astonishment before slowly reaching down to pick the pillow up off the floor. A wicked gleam came into his eye as he slowly stalked his prey waiting warily on the bed. He heard her heart rate kick up a notch, then was hit with the smell of her arousal.

Buffy didn’t know if she should grab another pillow to defend herself or lay back and wait eagerly for Spike to pounce. She licked her suddenly dry lips in anticipation, watching Spike’s eyes flare in reaction. Halfheartedly, she reached for a pillow behind her, but he stopped her, leaning in close before whispering in her ear, “very bad, pet.” His words flooded her senses; she could feel herself respond to his nearness. She moaned as he trailed his tongue around the outer shell of her ear before standing back up to divest himself of his t-shirt. When that fell to the floor, he brought his hands to the fly of his jeans, undoing the top button and slowly lowering the zipper. She couldn’t look away and waited eagerly for the last rung to ease open and allow his cock to spring free. Entranced as she was, Buffy didn’t notice that his pants were now gone and he was standing there, watching her watching him.

When she did, she sat up and reached to remove her own clothing.

“No,” he whispered. Her hands stilled on the top button. “Let me.”

A soft sigh escaped her lips and she slowly dropped her hands, nodding slightly.

Spike walked over to the edge of the bed and sat down, tucked a stray lock behind Buffy’s ear as he smiled down at her. In no hurry, and partly because he feared hurting her, he took his time running his hands over her body, slowly peeling the clothes from her as he went. His actions produced little gasps and moans from Buffy and he delighted in each and every noise that she made. He paid careful attention as her shirt slid away to reveal the healing wound on her abdomen. The incision was all but healed, but he couldn’t help but frown at the blue bruise that showed no signs of changing color.

In fact, it looked worse – little spidery threads of the same color were slowly branching out, almost reaching the underside of her breast above the bruise, and nearly skimming the top of the nest of curls at the apex of her thighs. His hand stilled, and he frowned.

Sensing Spike’s hesitation, Buffy opened her eyes and looked at him, puzzled at his serious look.

“Does it hurt?” he asked as his fingers traced over the faint scar.

“No. Not really.”

“You sure?”

“More than sure,” she replied. “Now finish what you started.”

“Buffy...”

“I’m fine,” she griped. “But you’re about to not be. Hands. Moving. Now.”

Spike sighed but let the matter drop. Buffy did have a point; her skin appeared neither flushed nor showed evidence of pallor. The only thing that stood out was the unusual bruising to her skin.

He cupped her breast and whispered, “This about where I was?”

“Uh... that’ll do...”

Spike got back to the matter at hand, and soon had her writhing beneath him. Mindful of her injury he flipped them so she was sprawled atop him. She appeared eager for the position change, taking him in hand and sinking down on his cock, then set up a slow, steady pace, sure to drive them both insane.


	15. Chapter 15

Spike watched as Buffy slept peacefully by his side. She’d drifted off not long ago, worn out from their lovemaking, snuggled close to his side. He still felt a pang inside his chest every time she allowed him to hold her, something he never got tired of and doubted he ever would. If he didn’t have things to do, he could have cheerful held her throughout the rest of the night.

But he had phone calls to make. He needed to know what kind of progress Giles and Angel’s humans were making. Placing a tender kiss to Buffy’s temple, he eased out of bed and donned his jeans.

His first call was to Giles. He wanted to check up on how the watcher was coming along with interpreting the translation.

The phone was picked up before the second ring had a chance to finish. An annoyed, “’ello!” sounded in his ear.

“Rupert. How go things?”

“Spike! What the bloody hell—?” Then, in a much more dignified voice added, “Do you have any idea as to the lateness of the hour?”

“Vampire, hello? It’s only eleven there. Don’t tell me you’re in bed already, old man?” Spike chuckled softly. It was nice to be able to yank the watcher’s chain a bit. But, the seriousness of the call quickly sobered him.

“No, not at all.” Papers shifted in the background. “I’m just going back over some of my translations. I wasn’t expecting the phone to ring. Was there a particular reason for you ringing me so late?”

“I just remembered something about Buffy’s attacker from—”

“Buffy’s attacker?” Giles interrupted, clearly alarmed. “Dear God! Is she alright?”

“Uh, yeah. She’s fine. She didn’t tell you?”

“I should say not!” Giles blustered. “What happened?”

“We got ambushed by some bloke. He got in a lucky blow to the Slayer’s stomach. We were worried a minute ‘cuz her injuries weren’t healin’ as fast as usual. But, everything’s alright now.”

“Not healin? Spike, what’s going on? Never mind that, I’m coming there. I’ll book a flight out for first thing in the morning.”

Spike could hear the nervous energy on the other end of the line.

“Watcher, she’s fine. If you come here now, she’s gonna know I told you. Then I’ll have one brassed-off slayer to deal with. I’ll pass, if it’s all the same to you. Besides, I need you there to work on that translation.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right. But, like I told Buffy this morning, I don’t think it applies to your situation.”

“Well, that’s a spot of good news,” Spike replied, relieved. Getting back on track, Spike told Giles why he was calling. He gave a brief described of the guy that had hurt Buffy and mentioned the markings the man had on his face. When asked to describe them, he was at a loss. 

“I’m no artist. I’ll call Angel and see if he can whip up something. He was always good with his pencil. Whatever I’m able to get, I’ll pass on to you.”

“Very well. I’ll wait to hear from you.... or them.”

Spike hesitated before ringing off, reluctant as to whether or not he should convey his concerns to the man.

“Giles?” he asked, after a long pause.

“Yes?”

“I don’t like this. This guy was too focused on the Slayer. Obsessively so.”

“Well, there’s no sense borrowing trouble before it’s due. We’ll figure it out, Spike. It’ll just take some time.”

“That’s the problem, watcher. I’m not sure time is with us on this one.”

Shaking away his gloomy thoughts, Spike hung up with Giles and placed his second call. Before, asking Angel for anything had always left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he really needed the vampire’s help and had no problem abasing himself for Buffy’s sake. In the past, Angel had really been a pain in his arse, but since he’d emerged from the amulet, grudging acceptance had been evident in Angel’s demeanor. It was time to test it. The blood bond was there, now to see if he would acknowledge it. 

“Wolfram & Hart, how may I direct your call?” a female voice enquired.

“Get me Angel.”

Soon Harmony’s voice came over the phone. “Harmony, I need to speak with Angel.” A little elevator hold music, then Angel’s voice sounded over the line.

“This is Angel.”

Spike took a deep, calming breath then said, “Sire, I need your help.”

Angel almost dropped the phone. If he could have gotten any paler, he would have. Spike rarely, if ever, acknowledged their bond. For him to reduce himself to this state, something grave must be occurring. Gripping the phone tightly, he replied, “You have but to ask, Childe.”

Spike closed his eyes for a moment, relieved that no smart remarks were forthcoming from Angel. Slowly, he related all the events of the past few days: the battle, the Slayer subsequently getting hurt, her slow healing, and their combined yet unspoken fear.

Angel listened without interrupting, but his demon surged to the forefront, anger at this unforeseen enemy hurting Buffy. He tamped it down when he heard Spike’s request.

“Can you draw what I’m describing? Maybe by figuring out what those marks on his face were, we can find out who’s behind this.”

“Hang on while I grab my tablet and a pencil.”

Spike let out a sigh as he heard the phone placed gently on the table. _‘That wasn’t as hard as I thought it was going to be.’_ After a few moments, Angel came back on the line.

“Tell me what you saw,” Angel requested quietly.

Spike complied, and for the next half-hour he described the various symbols he had seen as well as the man’s face.

When Angel was finished drawing, he asked Spike for his fax number, then sent over what he had done. They both waited on the line while the fax machine whirred to life and spat out a piece of paper, then Spike walked over and grabbed it.

Staring back at him was the guy that had hurt his slayer.

“Damn, Angel. It’s him. It’s bloody him!”

“I’ll give it to Wes to see if he can come up with anything.”

“Thanks. I’m going to forward this on to Giles. He said that he translated that text but he didn’t think that it had anything to do with Buffy. He’s gonna keep diggin’, though. Maybe this will help. Angel?” A pause. “Thank you, Sire,” he said simply, once more acknowledging their connection.

“Anytime. I’m here when you need me, Childe.”

Quietly, Angel disconnected their call. Closing his eyes, he leaned back in his office chair. Anguish, combined with hope, played across his face. He had thought that when he had given up Conner, he would once more be alone in the world. Sure, he had his friends that came with him to Wolfram & Hart. But, they were mortal. Their time on Earth limited. Once they were gone, his lonely life would stretch out endlessly before him. Spike could, at times – make that _most_ of the times – be a pain in the ass, but he was still family.

And as head of the Aurelius clan, it was his duty to see to the well-being of the others in his care. Snagging the paper off his desk, he left his office and went on the search for Wesley.

~*~*~*~*~

Halfway around the world, Spike slowly replaced the phone in its cradle, a slight smile forming on his lips. His Sire. Bond stated, bond claimed. He hadn’t been sure how Angel was going to react. A weight lifted when he realized that Angel had acknowledged their tie as if it was a given.

Spike was no longer alone.

He stared down at the picture Angel had faxed over. Blue eyes flashed briefly to yellow as his demon threatened to take hold. It took another moment before he calmed enough to fax the paper to Giles. When it was sent, Spike folded the paper up and tucked it away in his pocket and went to rejoin Buffy.


	16. Chapter 16

England  
Giles’ Office, Watcher’s Council Headquarters  
  
Giles was sitting at his desk, lost in thought. It was early on a Saturday morning, but that had never stopped him from going into the office to get some work done. It seemed like he spent more time behind his desk than he did at home anyway. Restructuring the Watcher’s Council from scratch took time and effort and wouldn’t fit into a normal workweek schedule. Besides, it wasn’t like he had plans to be anywhere else.  
  
Ever since Spike’s call last night, he was more puzzled than ever about the text he has translated. Which was why he sat leaning back in his seat, glasses held in his hand, as he absentmindedly sucked on the tip of one of the ear frames. He was going over the translation in his mind when he suddenly sat up, perched his glasses back up on his nose and reached for his discarded notebook. Quickly, he reread the translation.  
  
“Of course,” he mumbled aloud, pausing over a word that repeated itself: the one. Then he froze; the blood drained from his face leaving behind a pale visage. “Oh, dear God.” Scrambling out of his chair, he rushed to his bookshelf and began desperately searching for the text he needed. It was several minutes before he found the one he was looking for. The book was musty from disuse, yet thick – filled with vast amounts of knowledge. So much so, that several volumes could have been written instead of just the one.  
  
Glancing at his watch, he noted the time: 6:00 a.m. _‘Only an hour before I need to call Buffy,’_ he thought as he mentally calculated the one-hour time difference. He hurried back to his desk and got busy; an hour wasn’t much time, and he had a lot of reading to do. 

His earlier words to Spike came back to haunt him. Buffy seemed to be at the center of the prophecy, and if what he feared was true, so, too, was Spike.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Los Angeles  
Wolfram & Hart Offices  
  
While Giles was researching new meanings to the transcribed prophecy, halfway around the globe Angel was just walking through the door of Wesley’s office to check on what, if any, progress was being made on the sketch he had dropped off earlier. A clock chimed ten times, indicating the lateness of the hour, yet Angel noticed Wesley paid it no mind. The former watcher was thoroughly engrossed in the book laid out before him. Wesley hadn’t even spared him a glance when he gave a quick knock and walked in.  
  
“Anything, Wes?” Angel asked.  
  
Wesley started as Angel’s voice broke through his concentration, just realizing that he was standing in his office. 

“Bloody hell, Angel. Knock or something next time.”

“I did. You ignored me.

“Oh. Terribly sorry about that. Was rather engrossed. I think I’ve got a lead. Finally. I was just starting to read about it when you walked in.” He gave Angel an annoyed look for scaring him half to death. “Er, yes. Like I was saying. I just started reading. But, I can tell you those markings are for some type of protection. They allow safe passage for persons from the Draemuir dimension. Sort of a means to keep them grounded here in ours.” He saw Angel open his mouth to ask the question, but cut him off adding, “And, before you even ask… No, I have no idea who or what inhabits that dimension and why they would be here. I am headed in the right direction, however, and should have something for you in a couple of hours. Hopefully.”  
  
Angel sighed and walked over to the window, looking out at the night sky. _‘Why would someone from the Draemuir dimension be here, and what does it have to do with Buffy? Are the senior partners somehow involved?’_  
  
“… with that scroll that was delivered to me?” Wesley’s words finally penetrated Angel’s silent musings.  
  
“Uh... what was that, Wes?”  
  
“I said, do you think this guy’s appearance has anything to do with that scroll that was delivered here?”  
  
“No. Spike said that Giles thought that the scroll had nothing to do with them. We need to concentrate on this guy and try to figure out why he went after the Slayer. I’ll be back in a few hours. And, Wes?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Rome  
Buffy’s Room  
  
Both occupants on the bed sleep soundlessly, oblivious to the household waking up around them. For one, it was their normal sleep schedule. For the other, it wasn’t.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Rome  
City Square  
  
Dawn, along with the other girls, had woken up early. There was an art festival in town that weekend in addition to the weekly farmer’s market held in the square and they had all made plans to get up early and go before the crowds hit. Which was why the ringing phone went unanswered. 

That, and neither Buffy nor Spike could be roused to answer it.  
  
Dawn wasn’t worried when Buffy hadn’t shown for their jaunt. More than likely, her sister was catching up on her sleep. A little grin broke out over her face as to why she would need it, but was happy because it meant Spike was still around. The art festival was going to be there all weekend, so it wasn’t like Buffy was going to miss it if she didn’t come right today.  
  
Wandering through the various booths, Dawn tried to see if anything warranted “gift” status. Pretty jewelry abounded and Dawn picked out a silver ring with an amethyst stone for Buffy, and a handmade necklace for herself. She paid for her purchases then wandered off again. She stopped when she came to a local painter’s booth. She eyed his wares before noticing the painting he was currently working on. When she saw what he was doing, an idea came into her head.  
  
“If I gave you a picture, could you paint a copy of it? Like what you’re doing there?” she asked.  
  
“Sure. With something to go by, I could have it finished in a few hours. You could pick it up later this afternoon once it dries,” the artist replied.  
  
Squealing with delight, she reached into her purse to pull out her wallet. Opening it, she extracted a picture of her and Buffy together. It was a candid shot, taken a few years ago. Their arms were wrapped around each other and innocent smiles played across both of their faces. She couldn’t remember who had taken the picture, but it was her favorite. That’s why she had cut it down to size to fit in her wallet. Spike would love it as a painting. Christmas was coming; well, in another six weeks anyway. She just prayed she could keep quiet about it until then.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Rome  
Buffy’s Room  
  
Spike woke from a soundless sleep sometime around mid-morning. Eyes closed, he reached an arm out in the hopes of encountering the Slayer’s body, but knowing the space beside him would probably be empty. She was normally up and gone about this time of day. However, he smiled when his hand encountered the warm bundle lying next to him.  
  
“Slayer, I think you overslept,” he said drowsily, eyes still closed.  
  
He didn’t get a response. That made him open his eyes and he leaned up on one elbow to look at her. Buffy was lying on her back, her slightly pale face the only thing exposed above the sheet that covered her body. He reached out a hand to gently shake her awake. She’d be pissed that she had overslept, thus missing Giles’ call. His light shaking caused her to groan in her sleep. Pain, not pleasure. Hearing it, he jerked his hand back.  
  
“Buffy,” he called in a louder voice, trying to wake her with his words. When he sat up, the sheet pulled away from her body, exposing her upper arms. His stared, horrified, at what he had missed a moment earlier: twin blue streaks starting to snake up between the valley of her breasts. 

Carefully, so as not to cause her any more pain, he slowly lifted the sheet away from her body.  
  
“Nooo…” he moaned softly. The sheet slipped from his fingers to pool around her hips. Her upper torso was left bare to his scrutiny. The slight spidery veins of the night before had doubled in number. She looked like someone had painted a blue sun on her belly then drawn a bunch of rays outward from the circle. Some reached down to the tops of her thighs, others started to circle around her waist. More wound their way up towards her neck, not quite reaching the tops of her breasts.  
  
She lay unresponsive to his attempts to get her to awaken. He didn’t know what to do. His bellow for Dawn went unanswered. Then he remembered; the girls were at the festival. He jumped out of bed and threw on his jeans. Call the Watcher, his mind told him. Giles would know what to do. 

Spike raced out of the room to do just that. 


	17. Chapter 17

Spike was torn as he flew down the stairs, his feet barely skimming their surface. He wanted to stay with Buffy, but on the other hand, he had to call Giles. Racing into the office, he picked up the phone and punched the speed dial button that would ring Giles’ office. It was a good thing the number was preset in the phone, too, because his fingers were shaking so badly that he feared he would be unable to dial the number, let alone remember it. He heard the connection made then heard the telltale ringing of the extension.  
  
“Hello,” Giles answered the phone formally. Since it was Saturday, his secretary was off, leaving him to answer the phone himself.  
  
“Giles, you’ve got to help me. It’s Buffy. She’s hurt. She won’t wake up. Why won’t she wake up?” The desperately panicked words tumbled out of his mouth leaving no room for Giles to respond. Spike was babbling and he knew it. But, it was his slayer that was lying up in that bed, completely unresponsive.  
  
“Spike, calm down.” Giles attempted to break through Spike monologue. “Spike. Spike!! _Spike_!!” The third shout finally got Spike’s attention. Silence came over the line. “Now, Spike, just tell me what’s happening.”  
  
“It’s Buffy. She won’t wake up. The sore. The bruise is spreading. I can’t make it stop. Giles, you have to make it stop,” Spike pleaded.  
  
“Spike, listen to me. Was Buffy breathing?”  
  
“Yes, although shallowly. Like it hurt her to breath.”  
  
“Okay. That’s something in our favor. She’s the Slayer. Whatever it is, her body is trying to fight it. What I want you to do is go back up there and stay with her. Don’t move her. But, see if you can coax her to drink something. Water would be good. See if you can try to get her to wake up and talk to you. Can you do that for me?”  
  
“Yes,” he whispered.  
  
“I’m going to grab some stuff and be on the first flight to Rome. Have you heard anything from Angel on Buffy’s attacker?”  
  
“Nothing yet.”  
  
“Alright. I’ll call them and get them to forward any information to me. I should be there early afternoon. Can you have someone meet me at the airport?”  
  
“I’ll try. The girls… the girls are all out at the art festival.” Spike didn’t mention that he was home alone with Buffy. He was scared and all alone.  
  
“Well, I’ll call when I land. If nothing else, I’ll take a cab. I’ll see you in a few hours.”  
  
“Hurry.” Spike didn’t even say goodbye before he hung up the phone to rush back upstairs to Buffy.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
England  
Giles’ office, Watcher’s Council Headquarters, 9:30 a.m. Local Time, London  
  
“This is Rupert Giles. I need to speak with Angel immediately. It is most urgent.” He glanced at his watch to note the time, mentally calculating the time difference. He was astonished that someone actually answered the phone at one-thirty in the morning. He had thought he would have to leave a voice message rather than actually get someone to answer the phone.  
  
While he waited for Angel to pick up the line, Giles busied himself with gathering the books he’d been looking through. He punched the speakerphone function while he waited and retrieved a few more books that might prove useful from the bookshelf then grabbed his satchel and shoved everything inside.  
  
“Hello,” a voice sounded over the speakerphone. Giles stopped what he was doing and shouted, “This is Rupert Giles. I’m holding for Angel.”  
  
“Well, hello there Rupert. Wesley here,” he replied rather cheerfully for someone awake at such a god-awful hour.  
  
Giles walked back to the desk, cradling the phone to his ear, and said, “Wesley, I need to speak with Angel. It’s rather urgent.”  
  
“Angel is out of the office right now. He had some negotiations to do with a few Kremlick demons. He’s not due back for a few hours yet.”  
  
“Find him. Get him back immediately. I’m on my way to Rome right now. Buffy has been hurt, and it doesn’t look good. Tell Angel to get all the information he was able to come up with about Buffy’s attackers and fax it to me at her residence. I should be in Rome in a few hours time. And, Wesley?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Hurry.”  
  
Dropping the phone back in the cradle, Giles finished gathering up the texts and papers that he might need and headed for the door. In his outer office, he grabbed a passing watcher-in-training and in his most authoritative tone, told her that he wanted to be on the next feasible flight out of London Heathrow airport for Rome. And to pull out all the stops. He wanted no delays. If they had to hold the plane until he got to the airport, so be it. 

It was time to throw a little of the Council’s weight around!  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Los Angeles  
  
Both Angel’s pager and cell phone went off simultaneously. Ducking to avoid the axe aimed at his head, he spun his leg out in front of him, effectively sweeping the legs out from under the Kremlick demon, knocking it onto its back. He snatched the axe out of the demon’s hands, and threw it towards the far wall where it imbedded in the plaster. Then he fisted his hands in the lapels of the demon’s shirt and jerked him upright, until they were almost nose-to-nose.  
  
“I trust we’re not going to have any more problems. Correct?” The demon vigorously nodded his assent. Kremlick demons were a fierce lot, but always backed down before superior strength. Angel exhibited that strength.  
  
“Good. Meeting adjourned.”  
  
Angel let go of the demon’s shirt and stood up. Without a backward glance he headed towards the exit. It was only once he was outside in the hallway that he grabbed the cell phone out of his pocket. One missed call, the phone practically accused. He pushed a series of buttons, and determined that it was the office that had called him. He did the same with his pager. Again, he noted that it was the office, more specifically, Wesley’s number.  
  
“This is Angel, put me through to Wesley’s office.”  
  
In a matter of moments, Wesley answered the phone.  
  
“Angel. I need you back at the office right away. I just got off the phone with Rupert. Something is happening in Rome.”  
  
“I’ll be there in ten.” He jumped in the viper and sped off toward Wolfram & Hart. He had hung up before Wesley could get out, “Buffy’s hurt.”


	18. Chapter 18

In Flight  
Somewhere over Northern Italy  
  
Giles sat in the last row of the first class seats, poring over the books and papers he had spread out on every available space in his little area. His lap, the tray table, and adjacent seat bore evidence of Giles in research mode. The ailment the Slayer was suffering from did not bode well for the slayer line. He had found an obscure passage mentioning, he thought, the First Slayer. However, he wasn’t concentrating on that right now. Instead, he was trying to find something to help combat whatever had - for want of a better word - inhabited Buffy’s body. Whatever it was had Spike worried, and Giles wasn’t one to disregard the vampire’s instincts.  
  
He paused in his research to glance at his watch. He estimated that they would be arriving in Rome in about another thirty minutes, or so. Sighing, he went back to the book laid out on his lap, once more becoming engrossed in his research. Time was of the essence, and every moment spent researching was one not squandered away.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Los Angeles  
1:45 a.m. Pacific Standard Time  
  
Angel entered Wesley’s office to see both him and Fred frantically gathering up loose papers that were scattered haphazardly around the office. They paid him no mind as they scooped up discarded books, closing them and stacking them neatly on Wesley’s desk.  
  
“What’s going on?” Angel asked.  
  
Fred and Wesley abruptly halted their actions, guilt mixed with sorrow coloring their features. Tearing their gazes from Angel, they glanced at each other. A silent question played across both their faces. Finally, Fred nodded and if by some silent agreement turned back to Angel.  
  
“It’s Buffy,” she said. “She’s been hurt...” Fred’s voice trailed off at the look on Angel’s face and she stuttered her way through the rest of her announcement. “Giles called Wes. He said he was taking the next flight out to Rome. Apparently, Spike called him saying that the slay, er, Buffy wouldn’t wake up. Giles needs any information that we’ve been able to come up with on Buffy’s attacker in hopes of determining what was done to her. We’ve been gathering everything we have since he called.” She gestured to the mountain of books and papers stacked on Wesley’s desk.  
  
“Finish grabbing what you need and bring it with you. We’re on a flight to Rome as soon as the jet can get us cleared for takeoff.” A blank mask had descended on Angel’s face as Fred had given her explanation. A thousand thoughts and questions were running through his mind, but he couldn’t dwell on them. Right now he had to stay focused. _‘Get the stuff, get on the plane.’_  
  
Once he was in the air would be soon enough for him to dwell on the situation.  
  
Fred and Wes just nodded, knowing it was a given they would be heading to Rome. And Wes, wanting to get a head start, had placed the call to get the plane ready as soon as he had hung up with Angel. “Angel,” Wes said, stopping Angel’s departure from his office.  
  
Angel froze, his hand resting on the doorknob. “I’ve taken the liberty of forewarning the pilots. They should be there with a flight plan approved by the time we arrive. We’re already packed. We were just gathering up what we needed here.”  
  
Angel glanced back, grief evident on his features, and gave a brief nod. “Thanks, Wes. Let me grab a bag and I’ll meet you in the garage.” Without another word he walked out of the office to gather his things.  
  
In his suite, he made quick work of packing a duffle bag, not caring that he was traveling light. He wouldn’t have bothered at all, but the fight with the Kremlick demon had left him with a ripped pair of pants and a torn shirt. Then there was the smell. He didn’t bother with a shower, though he did change his clothes. He could clean up a bit on the flight to Rome. 

The ride to the airport was completed in silence, each of the occupants in the back of the limo lost in their own thoughts. Words right now seemed, somehow, inappropriate. Thankfully, the ride wasn’t long. In a matter of minutes, the limo was pulling right onto the tarmac, a few feet from the company jet. As the car rolled to a stop, the pilot came out to greet the trio.  
  
“Mr. Angel, our flight plan has been approved and we can leave as soon as you are all on board and your luggage is stowed,” the pilot said, by way of greeting.  
  
Not bothering to correct the pilot about his name, he just said, “Then, let’s go.”  
  
Twenty minutes later, the Wolfram & Hart company jet was streaking its way eastward towards Rome, the night lights of Los Angeles a distant blur.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Rome  
4:00 p.m. Local Time  
  
Giles was brought out of his silent musings as his plane taxied at the Rome Leonardo da Vinci Airport. He had repacked his books and papers when the call came that they were beginning their descent. Afterwards, his mind had drifted, replaying the information he had gleaned from his books over and over in his mind.  
  
The pilot’s voice came over the intercom welcoming them to the great city of Rome and announcing that travelers were now allowed to turn on cell phones, and other electronic devices, as well as voicing other useless ramblings of which no one really paid any attention. As soon as humanly possible, the passengers stood up to prepare for disembarking. Giles had reached into the inside breast pocket of his coat and turned his phone on as soon as the pilot’s announcement started. By the time the pilot had finished his speech, Giles had gathered up his things and was ready to make his way towards the exit.  
  
As he was walking up the gangplank, his cell phone went off. Without stopping his forward progress to the main terminal, he deftly snagged the ringing phone out of his pocket, punched the on button, and rattled off a hello. It was Dawn. Both she and Angelina were waiting to meet him at the baggage claim turnstiles. 

"Oh, and Spike wanted me to tell you that Buffy had woken up for a few minutes and appeared to be sleeping better now. It’s really cool that you’re taking a brief holiday to visit. Buffy’s gonna be so surprised, even though she’s gonna be bummed about being sick." 

Giles paused momentarily at that cryptic message. Obviously Spike hadn’t told Dawn the truth about Buffy’s condition. He wasn’t going to be the one to mention it either. No sense borrowing trouble before it was due.  
  
A few minutes later, Giles met up with the girls. He passed off his carry-on to Angelina so that he could stand by the spinning rack – along with everyone else – to wait for his bags to come up the ramp. The fates were shining on him, because his bags were one of the first to be spit out by the conveyor belt. Luggage in hand, he headed towards customs - an easy matter given his Council credentials.  
  
“Geez, Giles! This bag is heavy. Don’t you ever leave your books at home?” Dawn whined as they waited for Francesca to drive back through the loading zone.  
  
“Well, yes. Er, that is, I was working on a little research, when Spike called me about visiting-” Giles began, trying to lie his way through an explanation. When slight shock registered on Dawn’s face, he pushed on with his story. “Anyway, Spike said that Buffy was feeling a mite lonely, and could I perhaps drop in for a few days. Maybe surprise her. And, it’s been a while since I’ve been here. Could call it a Council’s check-up visit. See how things are running and such,” he babbled on. Dawn’s face registered even more shock, if such a thing were possible.  
  
Sighing, Giles just said, “No, Dawn, I don’t ever leave my books at home. It’s a watcher’s dictum.”  
  
Shock disappeared from the teenager’s face, then she rolled her eyes. “You could have just said that. No reason for the elaborate ‘Spike wanted me to come, yada, yada, yada, tale.’ As if,” she snorted.

“Quite right.” Giles gave a mental sigh of relieve that Dawn seemed to have dropped the matter. He hadn’t however, and his first order of business was a nice, long chat with a certain vampire.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Rome  
Earlier that day ~ about 2:00 p.m.  
  
Spike sat beside the bed, holding Buffy’s hand, his eyes roaming up and down her still form looking for any hint of movement. Her breathing had evened out somewhat, and her heart rate wasn’t quite as shallow as it had been earlier. _‘That’s it, Slayer. Fight it!’_ They stayed like that for about an hour, neither of them moving, except for the steady rise and fall of Buffy’s chest.  
  
Spike thought it was music to his ears when his slayer let out a slight groan. His gaze flew to her face... waiting. A few minutes later, he was rewarded when her brows twitched in a way that indicated she was trying to wake up but couldn’t figure out where she was and why. Her eyelashes began to flutter, then finally open. 

Buffy turned her head slightly so that she could look at Spike. She tried to open her mouth to speak but felt like whatever moisture she’d once had in her mouth and throat was gone.  
  
“No, luv. Don’t try to talk,” Spike told her. “Just rest and let that slayer body of yours do its job.” She didn’t understand, he could tell she didn’t, so he tried to explain. “Your bruise is spreading. Gave me quite a scare when you wouldn’t wake up earlier. Giles is flying in and will be here in a few hours. He should be able to whip up something to get you all better. You just rest now, yeah?” 

Buffy closed her eyes and gave a slight nod, drifting into a less troubled sleep. 

Spike stood up and brushed the hair off her face. He had heard the girls entering the front door a moment ago, and he needed to speak with Dawn before she found out about the seriousness of Buffy’s condition.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Spike walked into the kitchen, forcing a nonchalance he didn’t feel. He nodded to a few girls that were fixing themselves lunch and went to grab the container of blood out of the refrigerator, poured some into a mug, and popped it into the microwave. While he waited for it to warm up, he turned to Dawn.  
  
“Where’s Buffy?” she asked, before he had time to say anything.  
  
“Uh, she’s come down with some sort of flu bug. I came downstairs to find some soup for her,” Spike tried to lie. He couldn’t remember a time when the Slayer had ever been sick, and he hoped Dawn wouldn’t call him on it. She didn’t seem to question his response. Instead, she got up and went to the pantry to pull out a can of chicken noodle.  
  
“So, that’s why she didn’t come with us this morning. She’s gonna be so upset she missed the art festival. Hopefully, she’ll be better later, and can maybe go tomorrow,” Dawn said as she walked over to Spike to hand him the can. He gave her a quick, but tight hug. If she noticed he seemed a tad more clinging, she didn’t mention it.  
  
“Thanks, Niblet. She’s sleeping right now, so I’ll leave this on the counter for later,” Spike replied. “Oh, hey! Guess who’s coming to visit us for a few days?”  
  
Dawn pulled out of his embrace to look up at him. “Who?”  
  
“Giles.”  
  
“Really? Wow! It’s been like months since he’s been here! Him showing up should help motivate Buffy into kicking that nasty flu bug,” she replied, gifting him with one of her smiles.  
  
“Yeah. Think you can go pick him up at the airport?”  
  
“Sure. Not a problem. When does he get in?”  
  
“You’ll have to call his office for his flight information. I was upstairs when the phone rang a bit ago. You have the number, right?”  
  
“Yep. I’ll go call now then take a few girls with me to the airport to meet him.”  
  
“Thanks, ‘Bit. Be careful.”


	19. Chapter 19

In flight  
Somewhere over the United States  
  
Once the plane leveled out, the three passengers unbuckled their safety belts settling more comfortably in their seats. A few minutes later, Wesley stood up and grabbed the bag that had all his research on the Draemuir dimension. He placed the stuff out on the adjacent table and got back to work. It wasn’t long before Fred joined him.  
  
Angel just sat in his chair, lost in thought, as the jet slowly made its way towards Rome. He didn’t know what to feel. On the one hand, he knew that Buffy had moved on from their relationship. She had even told him that Spike was in her heart. What that meant, he wasn’t really sure. He hadn’t asked for details during their last meeting, just calmly went home when she told him to. He’d even started to move on... sort of. There was a lot of drama that signified his relationship - or what passed for his relationship - with Cordelia. Unfortunately, she was still in a coma after the whole Jasmine fiasco, and they were never really able to hash out what they meant to each other. Not that there really ever _could_ be anything thanks to the happiness clause of his curse.  
  
His tentative relationship with Spike was another matter. Spike was family, or what passed for family for vampires. Most times, he was a pain in the ass, and it was easy to put the vamp from his mind. But Spike had taken a step, one that Angel could not discount. 

Deep in his soul, he knew that Buffy and he could never truly be together. As much as they both may have once wished it were so. He would carry the memory of that day he was human until he was dust, but it was time to let her go and have her shot at happiness.  
  
With that thought uppermost in his mind, he vowed he would help find a way to get Buffy better and deal with this demon from the Draemuir dimension. Turning to his two friends huddled over several books, he asked, “So, Wes, what have you learned about this Draemuir dimension?”  
  
Wesley stopped what he was doing and looked up at Angel. “Quite a lot actually. The Draemuir dimension is ruled by a class of demons called the Draelorns. They’re shape-shifters, after a sort. Similar in appearance to humans, thus very difficult to differentiate to the untrained eye. They’re a vicious lot, ruling with strength and fear. The positive is that they rule over their dimension and are content to stay there. I honestly don’t know why someone bearing their markings would be here in this dimension.”  
  
“I guess the Draelorns aren’t content to play nice in their own house anymore. But I’m with you... why would they come here? It’s not like were running on a shortage of slayers anymore.” Angel had no way of knowing how prophetic his words were. None of them did. “I’m assuming that they can be killed, right? We’re not talking gods and goddesses here, are we?”  
  
“Ah, no. Nothing in my research indicates that they can’t be killed like any other demon inhabiting this earth. Although, we have to allow for some leeway between dimensions. As for the markings Buffy’s attacker bore, I guess their essence can’t be sustained in this dimension without them. So, if we notice a run on marked demons, we’ll have a heads-up.”  
  
“Okay. Mark that in the plus column. Easily identifiable.”  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Rome  
5:00 p.m. Local Time  
  
Giles breathed a sigh of relief when the car came to a stop in front of their destination. He watched as Dawn glanced over at him and rolled her eyes. Typical teenagers. He had probably lost ten years of his life and gained another hundred gray hairs after that roller coaster adventure they referred to as driving.  
  
“Er, yes. We’ve made it,” Giles said aloud to the passengers at large. He doubted anyone heard his mumbled, “praise God.” Opening the passenger door, he stepped out on shaky legs. Reacquainted himself with the nice, non-moving ground beneath his feet before walking around to the back of the vehicle to retrieve his luggage. Once the back hatch was open, he grabbed the two largest pieces and headed for the front door. Dawn and Francesca grabbed the remaining two pieces and followed behind after him. He heard them talking about typical teenager stuff as they trailed along in his wake. No mention was made about Buffy’s sickness. Maybe the vampire was right not to have Dawn made aware of the danger. Seeing her now, happy and carefree, was worth any flack they may catch at a later date. 

He had to agree with what Spike had done; Dawn needed this normalcy. Though hell would freeze over before he would admit it to the vampire. Heaven forbid they ever agree on anything.  
  
When they opened up the front door, Giles was surprised to see Spike descending the stairs to greet him. Looking at him, Giles would never know that this was the same vampire that had called him but a few hours ago in a panic. _‘No wonder he was so good at poker; he probably bluffed his way through every hand.’_  
  
Spike came to stand a few feet in front of Giles in the entryway. “Watcher,” Spike said by way of greeting. They didn’t shake hands, but Spike did grab one of the suitcases that Giles had placed on the floor. Turning on his heel, suitcase in hand, he headed for the stairs. “We put you in the room across from Buffy. Hope that’s alright.”  
  
“That’ll be fine, Spike,” Giles replied, following the vampire as he made his way up to the second level. For the benefit of the other two girls, Spike said, “Buffy woke up again a bit ago. I got her to eat some soup, well, drink the broth anyway. Then she fell back asleep. I guess this bug is kicking her ar-, er,” Spike censored himself at the last moment. “You know...”  
  
“Well, at least she’s eating something,” Giles talked over the momentary silence, playing along with Spike’s story. “That’s always a good sign that you’re on the mend.” It seemed to be working. The two girls detected none of the undercurrents in the conversation between Spike and Giles. They assumed Buffy was just sick, nothing more.  
  
Spike paused before the door across from Buffy’s room. He opened the door and stepped inside, placing the suitcase he had near the table. Giles and the two girls walked in behind him. Dawn and Francesca dropped the bags they were carrying then made a hasty retreat back down to the first level waving a quick “see ya” over their shoulders. When Spike was assured they were no longer in hearing range he spoke.  
  
“She’s sleeping better now, but I can tell she’s in a lot of pain,” Spike said, the anguish of uttering those words reflected in his gaze.  
  
“Let me see her.”  
  
Spike nodded and they crossed the hall to Buffy’s room. They stepped inside, shutting the door behind them. Both men walked over to the bed where Buffy lay sleeping. Spike pulled the sheet back, revealing the t-shirt and panties he’d put on her. Carefully, he lifted the t-shirt up until it reached the underside of her breasts.  
  
“Have you ever seen anything like it?” Spike asked, as he pulled up the t-shirt, exposing Buffy’s midriff. 

A shocked gasp was his only answer as Giles go a good look at the bruised. “Dear lord!” 

Spike glanced over his shoulder at the watcher’s exclamation and took pity on him upon spying the unshed tears in his eyes. “It’ll be alright, Rupert. The Slayer’s strong. She’s already woken up... twice, even. She’s eaten a little something too. I’m sure you’ll be able to figure out whatever it is that’s hurting her and fix it.” 

Spike resettled the t-shirt down around Buffy’s hips and pulled the sheet back up over her. He pinned Giles with a stare, very much wanting to believe the words he had just uttered. He _needed_ to believe them. He couldn’t live without Buffy. Didn’t want to. 

The watcher _had_ to make her better.  
  
Giles got his emotions under control and muttered, “Quiet right. I’ll just go back across the hall and see what I can come up with.” Though he didn’t believe the lie that had just come out of his mouth. He had never seen anything quite like the bruise covering Buffy’s body. A bruise that appeared to be spreading... and quickly. He only hoped that Wesley could find out more about Buffy’s attacker. At least then they would have a starting point. Remembering Wesley, he told Spike, “I’m expecting faxes from your friends in Los Angeles about Buffy’s attacker. Hopefully, that will point us in the right direction for fixing this.”  
  
“The fax machine is down in the office. You passed in on your way to the stairs. Which I’m sure you already know… so why am I telling you this? You can set up your stuff down there, or here. It’s up to you. The girls stay out of there for the most part, so you shouldn’t be interrupted. I’ll be with Buffy. Come get me if you need anything.”  
  
Giles was almost to the door when Spike called out.

“Watcher? Thanks.” 


	20. Chapter 20

Rome  
8:00 p.m. Local Time  
  
From his perch on the chair, Spike felt Buffy start the slow process of waking. A slight increase in her heart rate, deeper breaths. Looking up from the book he was reading, he was rewarded with her slight moan and fluttering eyelashes. Discarding the book, he stood and crossed over to the bed. Her head turned towards the noise of the book falling to the floor trying to find its source. He sat on the edge of the bed, held one of her hands in his, and stroked it tenderly.  
  
“Hey, luv. How are you feelin’?”  
  
Buffy opened her mouth and attempted to speak. A croaked, “Sore,” tumbled from dry, parched lips. Glancing towards the nightstand, she saw the pitcher of water and motioned to it, and Spike was quick to take the hint and pour her a glass. He eased her to a sitting position and helped her take a few sips. She must have been regaining some of her strength, because she was able to drink the whole glass of water as well as half of a refill. When she was finished, Spike eased her back down onto the pillows.  
  
“There’s someone here that wants to see you.” 

Buffy gazed questioningly at him. A slight smile played about his lips, and he got up and left the room. He crossed he hall and knocked on the watcher’s door before opening it. Giles was sitting on his bed, a book open on his lap. He looked up when the door opened.  
  
“Guess who’s awake?” 

Giles smiled and he quickly discarded the book he’d been reading to follow Spike back to Buffy’s room. When he walked into the room, his eyes went immediately to the figure reclined on the bed. When Buffy saw who the visitor was, she smiled as well. 

Giving the two a moment, Spike went back to his chair and watched from afar. 

Like Spike had just moments ago, Giles sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at his charge. Well, not his charge anymore. A grown woman, now. Seeing her in such a state was almost more than he could bear. It was much worse than the time when everyone’s thoughts were invading Buffy’s mind. She had been reduced to a quivering mass back then. Now she just looked broken, haunted.  
  
“Hello, Buffy. How are you feeling?” he asked as he clasped her hand in his. The show of affection didn’t go unnoticed by her, and the tears she’d been trying to hold back spilled over onto ashen cheeks.  
  
“Hurt. You’re here to help?”  
  
“Yes. Spike called me earlier when you wouldn’t wake up. I caught the first flight out. Arrived here a couple hours ago.” 

Buffy glanced at Spike where he sat in a chair across the room and smiled at him. He gave a tentative smile back. 

“We going to figure out what happening to you, Buffy," Giles told her. "Whatever it is, it’s strong. The good thing is that your slayer healing has slowed the progress down somewhat. I’m trying to find a spell that will help even more.” He turned to look at Spike, knowing his dislike for magicks, and spoke to him. “Nothing black arts, just a simple deterrence spell. It will increase her healing abilities while decreasing whatever it is that’s ki… er, hurting her.” Spike caught the watcher’s slip, and a brief moment of anguish filled his face before the indifferent mask came back.  
  
“Yes, well… I’m going to let you rest, Buffy,” Giles said, turning back to her. “I’ll be back in a while to perform that spell.” 

Buffy just nodded, worn out. At this point, she would take what she could get. 

Giles got up and headed back to his room. He needed to find the spell and make sure he had supplies necessary to complete it. He shut the door behind him when he left.  
  
“Dawn?” Buffy whispered, drawing Spike’s attention away from the closing door. 

Shaking himself out of his reverie, Spike went back over to Buffy. “She’s downstairs with the girls. She doesn’t know. Thinks you’re just sick,” he replied.  
  
“I’ve never been sick a day in my life. Well, except that one time... Still, that excuse is not going to hold up for long.”  
  
“I know. Especially if Giles is going to do this spell. He’s going to need help. She’s going to have to know.” Spike sighed uselessly, already dreading that scene. “We’ll wait until Giles is ready. Then I’ll tell her. No sense shattering her world before then.” 

Spike carefully crawled onto the bed and cuddled as close to the Slayer as he could get without hurting her. He didn’t know what else to do for her, and he lay there contemplating Giles’ Freudian slip. The watcher thought Buffy was dying. Spike didn’t think he could go through that again. The summer after she had died had been a dark period for him. He’d lost weight from lack of sleep and food. If it hadn’t been for his promise to protect Dawn, he would have lain down on Buffy’s grave and welcomed the sunrise, his dust left to cover her final resting place.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
An hour later, Giles knocked on Buffy’s door. He had found the spell relatively easily; he just had to get a few herbs. He mentally thanked his foresight in having the young slayers learn a little about performing simple spells. It made obtaining what he needed rather expedient. A soft “come in” sounded from within, and holding his supplies in one hand, he used the other to open the door.  
  
Giles eyed the couple on the bed with concern. They both looked like hell. Buffy he could understand, even Spike partially because of his feelings for Buffy. But still. Then it dawned on him. “When was the last time you fed?” Spike looked up sharply at the blurted question, blue eyes glaring.  
  
“’m fine.”  
  
“No you’re not. And you’ll be no good to Buffy in your condition. Go get something to eat.” At Spike’s mutinous expression, he added in his best Ripper voice, “Now, Spike.”  
  
“Yes, Da,” Spike replied petulantly. 

Both the Slayer and watcher’s smiled briefly at Spike’s tone. 

With a growl, Spike stormed from the room.  
  
“Thanks, Giles,” Buffy spoke softly from the bed. “I’ve been trying to get him to feed for a while now. He didn’t want to leave me. Darn stubborn vamp!” 

Giles just chuckled. He may not have understood the relationship between his slayer and the vampire, but he could see that it did her good. Even though her body was struggling to deal with what by all appearances was some type of poison coursing through her body, he could see that Spike was beneficial to her well-being. And if Spike made her happy, who was he to begrudge? Especially after all the heartache she’d been made to suffer.  
  
A few minutes later a grumpy vampire stormed back into the room, Dawn following quickly on his heels. She took in the scene and stopped short. Buffy was lying on the bed, pale, like her life’s force was slowly being drained from her body. Giles, normally so stoic, showed signs of desperation, fatigue, and pain. She pushed her way past Spike. “Buffy…” Her eyes darted to Giles. “What’s going on?” 

Giles just looked at Dawn for a moment then turned away. Whirling around, Dawn’s eyes locked on with Spike’s. “Spike?” she whispered. Irritation gave way to despondency, and Spike had trouble holding her gaze. But he did.  
  
“’Bit,” he began.  
  
“No!! Not again. Not now,” she started, then stopped abruptly. 

She began to sway on her feet and would have fallen to the floor if Spike hadn’t caught her. He pulled her close and gave her a hug. “’Bit. It’s gonna be okay,” he murmured as he stroked her hair. The other two occupants were quiet as Spike tried to comfort Dawn. “That’s why Giles is here. He’ll have her better in no time. Just you wait.” Hopeful eyes looked up and locked with pained blue. “Really?”  
  
“You bet.” Forcing a smile, he held her at arms length. “And you’re gonna help.” Dawn tore her eyes away from him and looked around the room. Spike’s arms slowly fell away from her. She noticed the spell books and supplies lying on the floor near the bed.  
  
“A spell. You’re going to do a spell?” she asked.  
  
Giles spoke up. “Yes. Nothing too complicated. It’s just going to enhance her slayer healing abilities, while suppressing whatever it is that’s spreading through her body.”  
  
“Spreading through her body?” she questioned. She walked towards the bed to get a better look at her sister. Buffy’s face was pale, and she could make out blue, web-like bruising on her upper arms that were lying on top of the sheet. “Hey, Dawnie,” Buffy whispered, taking hold of Dawn’s hand and giving a loving squeeze. “It’ll be okay. Honest. Giles is going to get me fixed right up.”

Answering Dawn’s question, Giles said, “It appears to be some type of poison spreading through her body. We’re going to try and stop it and let her body do the rest.” 

Dawn turned away from Buffy and said to Giles, “What do you need me to do?” 


	21. Chapter 21

Giles began getting the room ready for the spell. He set up the sacred circle and began lighting candles for protection. Dawn helped by lighting incense and setting out the healing crystals that would be placed on Buffy’s body once she was inside the circle. When everything was set up as it should be, Giles turned to Spike.  
  
“Spike, I need you to place Buffy inside the circle.” 

Spike nodded and carefully lifted the Slayer out of bed and into his arms. He moved to the circle and knelt before it.  
  
“Careful, Spike. You can’t disrupt the circle,” Giles reminded him. 

Spike fixed the watcher with a glare but once more bent to his task of getting Buffy inside the circle. The circle was large enough that it enabled Buffy to lie inside it without disrupting the protective barrier. When he had her settled comfortably on her back, Spike slowly stood up and backed away. Dawn stepped forward then, the crystals in her hands, and began placing them on Buffy. One for her head, one for her heart, one for each palm, and one for each foot. When she was finished, she rose and went to stand by Giles. He nodded at Dawn to let her know she did a good job, then picked up the book that contained the spell. With a clear, deep voice he read out the incantation seeking healing and restoration for his slayer. The crystals began to glow a bright green then faded to amber as he read. When he finished, the crystals once more returned to their natural, non-illuminated color. It was done.  
  
With a sigh, Giles closed the book and set it aside. Spike took that as his cue to retrieve the Slayer and return her to bed. 

“It doesn’t hurt as bad,” she murmured, awed, as Spike knelt down and lifted her in his arm. Even as she said it, her color appeared to be getting better; she wasn’t quite as pale as before. 

Spike got the Slayer settled in bed and Buffy was soon joined by Dawn. When Buffy’s stomach growled suddenly, both girls laughed.  
  
“Dawnie, you think you could make me a bowl of soup? I guess I must be a little hungry,” Buffy laughed.  
  
“Sure! I’ll be right back.” Dawn practically bounced her way out of the bedroom. 

Buffy smiled as she watched Dawn leave, then turned her attention to Giles as he drew near. 

“Thanks, Giles. I can’t tell you…” she began. 

Giles interrupted her before she could finish. “Yes, well,” he stammered. “No thanks are necessary, Buffy. I just wish I could do more. I don’t know how much this will help. Or, how long it’s going to last. I still need to do research on this attacker…” 

This time Buffy interrupted him. Taking his hand, she said, “Giles. Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll figure it all out. And I do feel better, honest.” As if to confirm her words, her stomach growled again. A blush slowly worked its way up her cheeks. “See. I’m hungry. A sure sign I’m getting better.”  
  
“Well, I’ll leave you to eat then. I’ve got some more books I’d like to look through before I turn in,” he said. He patted her hand affectionately, then let go, heading towards the door. “Eat and rest, Buffy.” He gave Spike a pointed look before leaving.  
  
Spike turned to Buffy and told her, “I’m gonna see what’s keeping the ‘Bit. I’ll be right back.” 

Buffy smiled and nodded her assent. Spike smiled back and followed after the watcher.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Spike noticed the watcher’s bedroom door was still open when he stepped out into the hallway and pulled the Slayer’s door closed. He poked his head in the doorway and made eye contact.  
  
“How long do you think it will last?” Spike asked.  
  
“I’m really not sure, Spike. I’m going to grab a few books and head down to the office. Hopefully, Wesley will have sent some information by now.”  
  
“I’ll see what’s keeping the Niblet then join you.” Spike heard his agreement and backed out of the room. He paused, then stuck his head back inside. “It’s good that she’s hungry, right, Rupert?”  
  
Giles looked up from gathering his books. He saw the concern on the vampires face and sighed. He didn’t know what to say. On the one hand, he didn’t want to encourage Spike too much. But on the other, he didn’t want Spike to give up hope. In the end, he couldn’t dash Spike’s hope, for to do so, would kill his own. “Yes, Spike. This is a good sign.” 

Spike nodded and left the room to search out Dawn.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Spike found Dawn in the kitchen. Well, at least he _thought_ it was the kitchen. Every available surface space was covered by vegetables, spices, pots, and other paraphernalia. Dawn was running hither and yon in an attempt to make, what? He didn’t know.  
  
“Dawn, what the bloody hell—?” Dawn stopped in her tracks and looked at Spike.  
  
“I just— She wanted some soup,” she stated, gesturing to the stuff on the counters, “I was trying to…”  
  
Spike sighed and walked over to her. 

“It’s okay, Niblet,” he spoke soothingly as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I think some canned soup will be fine. Maybe we can save this for another day?” She nodded reluctantly and gave him a tremulous smile. 

“Why don’t you get a can out of the pantry while I start cleaning this mess up.” 

~*~*~*~*~  
  
Back in Buffy’s room, Dawn set the tray carefully on Buffy’s lap. The smell of food had Buffy’s stomach growling once more and she picked up the spoon and started to eat while Dawn looked on. Spike leaned against the door jab and watched for a moment.  
  
“I’m going to take the girls out for a quick patrol,” Spike spoke from the doorway. “Dawn can stay here and keep an eye on you while I’m gone.”  
  
Buffy stopped eating to look at him, concern evident on her face. Spike met her gaze and spoke again, “They can’t sit around here and do nothing. I’ll keep an eye on them. Promise.” 

Buffy gave a short nod.  
  
“I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Giles is downstairs in the office if you need him.” 

Spike pushed away from the doorjamb and went to round up the girls for patrol.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Patrol was uneventful. There was no sign of Buffy’s attacker, although Spike had looked. They encountered a few newly risen fledglings that the girls were easily able to dust. Frustrated, he trudged his way back home, the girls following behind.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Entering the darkened house, the girls departed to their rooms to sleep. Spike walked to the office to tell Giles that he was going to check on Buffy and come back downstairs to help with the research. Giles muttered something that sounded like a “fine” and continued reading from the book on the desk before him.  
  
Spike walked into Buffy’s room to check on her. She was sleeping peacefully: slow, steady heartbeat; deep, even breaths. There was no sign of Dawn. He left the room and walked down the hall to Dawn’s room; he turned the knob and peeked inside. She, too, was sleeping. He pulled her door shut as well and went downstairs to help Giles.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
With a frustrated sigh, Spike plopped down in one of the two chairs that were situated in front of the desk. “Anything?” he asked.  
  
Giles looked up from the text he’d been reading and leaned back in his chair. He pulled the glasses from his face, whipped out his handkerchief, and started wiping the lenses as he spoke. “Not really. I was hoping that I would have received word from Wesley by now so I could start cross-referencing some things. But, nothing has come across the fax machine.” 

Spike frowned.  
  
“How’s Buffy doing?” Giles asked.  
  
“She’s sleeping. The ‘Bit, too. I tried to see if I could find any trace of Buffy’s attacker while we were out patrolling, but nothing. It’s like he just disappeared without—” He stopped abruptly, and stood up. Giles took one look at the serious concentration on Spike’s face and stood up as well. Walking to the cabinet behind him, he reached in and grabbed an evil-looking axe, prepared to do battle. He hefted a sword at Spike. Spike grabbed it and left the office, headed for the front door.  
  
A soft knock sounded just before he reached it to throw the front door wide open. The building was protected by a spell, so he wasn’t too worried about who was outside. But someone knocking on the door at eleven o’clock at night could not be a good sign. With a quick glance at Giles to make sure he was ready, he threw the door open, sword extended menacingly at the figures standing just beyond the door.  
  
Fred’s wide eyes started back at him. “Spike?” 

Relaxing his battle stance at the familiar face, Spike pulled the tip of his sword away from her neck and pointed it towards the ground.  
  
“Sorry, pet.” His eyes landed on the faces of the other two people with her. “Hi, Wes… Angel.” Wesley mumbled a hello. Angel didn’t say anything.  
  
“Wesley?” Giles asked, moving closer to the open door.  
  
“Hello, Rupert.” Spike moved aside and allowed them to enter, then rushed up to the second level. Bypassed Buffy’s room and went to Dawn’s. He opened the door and crossed to the bed and tried to gently shake her awake. “Dawn? Dawn, I need you to wake up for a minute…” 

Moaning in her sleep, Dawn attempted to roll over and snuggle deeper into her pillows. Spike picked her up and carried her downstairs.  
  
“Spiiike? What are you doing? Put me down.”  
  
“Sorry, Niblet. We have a guest,” he said. Finally put her down by the front door. “Mind inviting him in?” She threw an exasperated look at Spike, then turned to look at the man standing in her doorway. “Come in.” she grumbled. 

A half-smile came to Angel’s lips and he stepped over the threshold as Dawn moved out of the way.  
  
“Can I go back to bed now?”  
  
“Sure, Niblet. Thanks,” Spike replied. 

Grumbling, half-asleep, Dawn made her way back upstairs. 


	22. Chapter 22

Spike watched Dawn slowly climb the stairs until she was out of sight. Only then did he turn back to the assembled group in the front entry. They all stood there in awkward silence until Giles spoke.  
  
“Let’s go in to the office, shall we? I have my research set up in there.” Giles gestured to a room off the front entryway. “Wesley, I take it that you brought what you’ve been able to find out about Buffy’s attacker?” Wesley nodded and indicated the satchel he had slung over his right shoulder as he preceded Giles into the office. Fred and Angel trailed behind him, followed by Spike. Giles walked in last and shut the door behind him.  
  
Wesley and Fred took the two seats in front of the desk, while Angel propped himself up against the wall, arms folded over his chest. Giles went around the desk and sat down. Spike stood behind him, adopting a stance similar to Angel’s.  
  
“So, Wesley, what have you been able to discover?” Giles asked. Wesley started speaking as he began pulling texts, papers, and other research items out of his satchel.  
  
“Based on the drawing Angel was able to recreate, we’ve been able to determine that Buffy’s attacker is from the Draemuir dimension. They’re a hierarchical-based world ruled by Draelorns. They’ve been content to stay in their own dimension, thus far. We still can’t fathom why they would venture into our world, but we’re still researching.”  
  
“Why would they want to try and come here? Haven’t they heard about the sudden over-population of slayers?” This from Spike.  
  
“It makes no sense to us either,” Fred said. “If they wanted to attempt expanding their empire, they should have tried it before now.”  
  
“So, we need to find out why they’re suddenly interested in our world. There’s got to be a reason for their sudden interest. And even more troubling, what makes them think they have any hope of succeeding,” Giles added. “I’m assuming you all will be here for a while?”  
  
“Until it’s fixed,” Angel spoke from his position against the wall.  
  
“Right. Then you’ll need a place to stay. I’m sure we can find some rooms for you here.”  
  
“That won’t be necessary. Wolfram & Hart owns a hotel in the city. I’ve booked us rooms there. We can shower and change there then come over here to research. I don’t want to disrupt things any more than they are,” Angel said.  
  
Spike pierced Angel with a look. “We can make room. She’ll want to see you,” he said quietly.  
  
“She’ll see me, but we’re still staying at the hotel,” his quiet tone brooked no argument. Spike just sighed and nodded.  
  
“Now that that’s decided… Why don’t you all go get some rest and we’ll get a fresh start in the morning?” Giles chimed in. “I’m sure your body clocks are completely awry after that long flight.” 

They all agreed, both to the need for sleep and the resumption of research later that day. Then the three visitors were gone, leaving behind the research they had brought with them.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Spike went upstairs to keep vigil over a sleeping Buffy, leaving Giles once more alone in the office. He took off his glasses and set them on the desk, pinched the bridge of his nose as he leaned his elbow on the desk. He had deliberately avoided mentioning the prophecy that he was researching in front of the others, instead getting them to focus on Buffy’s attackers. He feared the two items were directly related and he needed as much information as possible about this Draelorn demon before he voiced his concerns to the others.  
  
For now, he went back to researching, desperate to prove himself wrong about the prophecy, Buffy’s fate, and that of the slayer line. 

He had witnessed a lot over the last seven years first as her watcher, then as her mentor. Seen firsthand the heartache she’d endured, the betrayals she’d overcome... some by him. There’d been failed relationships. The death of her mother. Her dying, twice. Being resurrected the second time, torn out of Heaven by her well-meaning friends, and how she’d attempted to get used to being back on Earth again. 

If what he thought came to pass, it was going to be a long while before she saw Heaven again. 

_Don’t think negatively,_ he chided himself _. Look through the books and find a different answer._  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
_She awoke to feel the cool sand beneath her bare feet; a white, calf-length_ dress billowed about her legs from the gentle breeze. Buffy took a moment to get her bearings then realized she was immersed in a slayer dream. “Great! As if the last one wasn’t bad enough,” she mumbled under her breath as she started walking through the darkened desert. A full moon provided the light necessary to guide her on her way.  
  
Buffy arrived at the cave, unerringly. She took a deep breath before walking inside; there was just something about a slayer dream that made her want to delay putting off the inevitable. As she expected, a fire provided the only means of light. What she didn’t expect was to see the first slayer walk out to calmly sit beside her. Last time, it had been about the skulking through the shadows, lurking behind the flames, and paint-covered face as she pranced around in the latest cave-wear.  
  
The woman before her stood tall, proud, shoulders thrust back in a regal bearing. Her face was scrubbed clean to reveal her beautiful ebony skin, high cheekbones, and wide lips. She wore a simple dress that blazed with vibrant colors of green, red, blue, purple, orange, and yellow. A blue turban the same shade as the color on her dress covered her once-matted dreadlocks. On her feet was a simple pair of leather sandals. She was stunning!  
  
“Welcome, Buffy Summers,” she said in a melodious voice. The raspy, cryptic voice a thing of the past.  
  
“Uh… hello. You’re the first slayer, right? What’s with the new look?”  
  
The first slayer flashed a wide smile and took Buffy’s hand in hers. “My time is nearing an end. Soon, someone else will take my place as guardian of all who will come after. This,” she said, gesturing to her clothing, “is my burial wardrobe. It is the custom of my people to celebrate death as life. Vibrant colors are worn to celebrate a new life in the hereafter.”  
  
“But why?”  
  
“Why are you asking me questions for which you already possess the answer?”  
  
“But… it’s just. I know about the whole death being my gift thing. But why now, why me? I don’t want to be the… Haven’t I don’t enough?” she cried.  
  
“Buffy, you sealed your fate when you reclaimed our weapon, the slayer’s weapon. It bonded to you in ways you cannot begin to fathom. When you used the scythe to release the potentials, allowing them all to become slayers, a part of you went to each of them. You are tied to them, and they to you. This is the reason.”  
  
Buffy just looked at the first slayer, stunned. She had no idea that this would be the consequence of working that spell. Sighing, she got up to leave, allowing the other woman to finish her preparations. From the looks of things, it meant that Buffy didn’t have long either.


	23. Chapter 23

Buffy awoke in the predawn hours to feel Spike trying to carefully untangle himself from her. The spell that Giles conducted last night seemed to help a bit. She was still sore and could feel her strength draining away, but believed that she could still get up and move around. The first place she wanted to move to was the bathroom. It seemed like ages since she’d relieved herself, or taken a shower.  
  
With that thought in mind, she sat up as Spike was pulling on his jeans. The soft rustling on the bed had him glancing around at her.  
  
“What do you think you’re doing?” he whispered a little harshly.  
  
“Bathroom and shower,” she said as she swung her legs over the side of the bed and made to stand up.  
  
Spike rushed around to the other side of the bed intent on carrying her there, and she shot him a glare that just dared him to try it. She wasn’t going to build up her strength if he kept carrying her everywhere. Seeing the look on her face, he shot both hands up in the air in a placating gesture, but stood nearby in case she needed him. Slowly, Buffy stood up on wobbly legs; she faltered for a minute, arms shooting outward for balance, then regained purchase and slowly made her way towards the bathroom.  
  
She grabbed onto the doorjamb and held on tight once she made it, looked back to where Spike was watching her progress with anxious eyes.  
  
“Where were you off to?” she asked taking in his semi-dressed attire.  
  
“We had more guests show up while you were asleep,” he mumbled. “Heard them pull up and need to go let them in.” Buffy looked at him, a question on her face.  
  
He didn’t know if he should tell her or not. What was he thinking? He had to tell her. She was going to find out soon enough anyway. He looked at the floor, then sighed and looked back up at her.  
  
“Angel, Fred, and Wesley showed up late last night. They’re here to help figure out this mess,” he said, motioning towards her stomach. “Take a shower. I’ll let our guests in and rouse Rupert, then come back up to get you, okay?” 

Buffy nodded and slowly shut the bathroom door, concentrating all her energy on remaining upright for the length of time it took her to get clean. 

Spike pulled on a t-shirt and hurried to the door. Once he was out in the hallway, he knocked briefly on Giles’ bedroom door, letting him know through the closed door that Angel and company were back and he was going downstairs to let them in.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
The office held more people than it was comfortably able, but the occupants wanted to be assured of privacy from the younger slayers. There was no point getting them involved if it wasn’t necessary. Spike sat beside Fred in one of the two chairs in front of the desk, holding a weakened Slayer snugly on his lap. She had exhausted herself with her shower and her attempts to walk on her own until finally he had growled and swept her up into his arms and carried her down the stairs and into the office. 

_Damn woman and her independent streaks._

Dawn perched on the arm of Spike’s chair – there was no way she wasn’t being included in the research, especially since she had found out the seriousness of Buffy’s condition last night. Giles was again behind the desk, Angel and Wesley flanking him.  
  
Giles outlined a plan of attack in dealing with the situation.  
  
“I think the best thing would be to split up into groups. We still need to find out all we can on this Draemuir dimension as well as Buffy’s attacker. But, I think it would be beneficial if we could actually find this person, demon, whatever it is. Maybe then we can narrow down what he has done and come up with a solution to fix it. Spike, Angel, I’ll leave that to you. You can take the other slayers with you. It will allow them to keep up their skills while Buffy is incapacitated,” he said, pinning Spike with a look. Spike gave a slight nod back at the watcher. There was no way Buffy was going out to patrol and he had effectively sidestepped any argument that she might come up with.  
  
“The rest of us will research. See if there is anything we’ve overlooked or have yet to find.” He squelched the guilt he was feeling about the short text he had found and was now hidden in his room. He wasn’t even sure if the passage related to Buffy. His conscience argued that it wasn’t true, but he refused to dwell on the finality of the words. If he mentioned it to the others, then they would become distracted, possibly give up hope. So, for now, he chose to withhold the information.  
  
To make it easier to research, they collectively decided to move everything into the dining room. It had a huge table and allowed them to spread out. Grabbing books, scrolls, pads of paper, and pens, Fred, Wesley, and Dawn left to set everything up. With the sun now peaking on the horizon, Spike and Angel were pretty useless, so they both decided to get a few more hours of sleep.  
  
Spike stood up with Buffy in his arms and was about to take her back upstairs, but she stayed his action.  
  
“I need to look at a few things on the computer. See if Willow or Xander sent me an email.” Spike gave her an exasperated look, but nodded and deposited her in the chair behind the desk that Giles had recently vacated. He brushed a kiss to her forehead then left to show Angel where he could catch a few hour’s sleep.  
  
Giles was just about to follow Spike and Angel out of the office when Buffy’s voice stopped him.  
  
“Giles?” He stopped and turned around to look at her.  
  
“I had a slayer dream last night.” The whispered words carrying a tinge of fear had him closing the door to the office and walking back towards her.  
  
“I haven’t told Spike…” she faltered. Looked away and blinked back tears. It was a few minutes before she took a steadying breath, and looked up at Giles. “I haven’t told Spike yet. But I saw the first slayer. Twice, actually. Last night it was different though. _She_ was different.”  
  
Giles looked at her questioningly, silently urging her to continue.  
  
“She said I’m tied to the slayers and they’re tied to me. Because of that spell we did with the scythe. That now, I’m going to become their guardian. That’s not the worst part though...”  
  
Giles mentally braced himself for her next words.  
  
“Death is my gift,” Buffy whispered.   
  
Giles rushed around the desk to pull the woman he had always thought of as a daughter into his arms. Providing the comfort she so desperately needed. Lent his strength as well.  
  
They stood there like that for several minutes. Then finally, Giles held her at arm’s length, wanting to look Buffy in the eyes before he spoke. “Buffy, those dreams are supposed to be prophetic. Like a metaphor of what may happen. Or _could_ possibly happen. And, I’m stressing the ‘could.’ The events of our life are not set in stone.”  
  
“But Giles. You don’t understand. The first dream I had. It was the exact same one I had when I was dealing with Glory. And you remember how well that went.”  
  
Giles went pale at that, but quickly recovered and pressed on. “It doesn’t matter. We _will_ figure this out.”  
  
“I hope so.”

“I know so. Have we ever not?”

“No.” Buffy gave him a wobbly smile and sat back down behind the desk as Giles moved around the desk and made to leave. Her trust in him was implicit. She turned on the computer, letting it warm up.  
  
“Don’t stay here too long, Buffy,” he called out, his hand on the doorknob. “You still need your rest.”  
  
“God, you’re as bad as Spike,” she grumbled. “Alright... I won’t. Sheesh! But, I’m not going back to bed.” Before he could interject with more fatherly concern, she added, “I’ll confine myself to the couch in the living room and watch TV. Okay?”  
  
“Yes. That should be fine.” 

Leaving Buffy to her email, Giles slowly made his way to the dining room to join the others already busily researching. He felt as if he had been sucker-punched. As Buffy told him about the dreams she’d had, all he could think of was the short passage now emblazoned in his mind.  
  


_Two demon’s compromise_  
_An ensouled phoenix shall arise_  
_Mixed blood interwoven_  
_To save all chosen_  
_From unequivocal demise_

~*~*~*~*~

Spike lay in bed, refusing to get up as he heard Angel walk down the hall towards the stairs. He could be the bigger vamp and allow Angel this time with the Slayer. _‘Yeah, right! Who am I kidding?’_  

He knew that they had some things to discuss; he just had to trust in Buffy’s love for him. After all, it was _he_ that was in her room, lying in her bed, attempting to rest... not Angel. With a smile on his face, he cradled the Slayer’s pillow close, inhaling her scent, and finally dozed.

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy sensed him before he had even opened the door. She finished typing her email, not wanting him to read what she’d written.

_Guys,_

_I need you. There is not much time and I would like to say goodbye._

_Love,_  
_Buffy_

She knew the email was abrupt, and would probably send both of them into conniptions. But she didn’t have the time, or the strength, for a long-winded explanation.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, you overbearing, protective vampire,” she ranted, her gaze locked on the computer as she pressed the send button on her email, not bothering to look up as the door opened. “You’d think I wasn’t the slayer the way you act–“

She broke off upon noticing that it was Angel standing in the doorway, not Spike.

“Angel! Hi!”

“Buffy,” he acknowledged softly as he shut the door behind him. He took in her awkward greeting and hesitant manner and sighed softly. Gone was the shy girl he had come to love so long ago. Before him sat a woman; strong, confident, capable. And this woman didn’t love him. He was sure there was a part of the girl still inside that would always love him, be in her heart. But it was the blond vampire upstairs that she loved. And if that was what she wanted, then he’d stand aside. No matter how much as it pained him.

“How are you?” he asked.

His question struck her as funny and she started laughing. A good laugh that took away all the melancholy from her earlier conversation with Giles. Tears of mirth this time, and she leaned back in the chair as she hastily wiped them away.

Angel didn’t know what he’d said to make her laugh, but he was glad to see her happy.  
  
Finally, she wound down and told him, “I’m sorry. It’s just that everyone’s been asking me that. It’s: ‘Hey, Buffy, how are you?’ or ‘Hey, Buffy, how are you feeling.’ I’d be rich if I was given a nickel every time someone has said that to me the last few days.” She smiled at him, and the brooding expression that was a constant on his face melted for a moment, and he smiled back at her.  
  
“But, to answer your question, I’m cookies.”  
  
“Uh, cookies?” Angel wracked his brain trying to figure out what the hell she was talking about. Maybe the exhaustion was getting to her, messing with her mind.  
  
She gave him an impish grin and waited. She didn’t have to wait long though.  
  
“Right, I remember. The day I showed up in Sunnydale with the amulet. We kissed. You told me you were cookie dough. But, you’re not cookie dough anymore? You’re cookies now?”  
  
“Yeah, about that. I’m sorry.”  
  
“Sorry? For what?”  
  
“For kissing you.”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“It’s just, the thing with Spike. I had to be sure. So, I kissed you.” At his confused look, she plodded on. “It was nice, don’t get me wrong. But you weren’t him. I needed to see if what I felt for you would ever allow me to feel anything for him. That’s why I kissed you. And I knew. I love you, Angel. A small part of me probably always will. But, I’m in love with Spike. I can’t imagine my life without him.”  
  
If they could, her words would have broken his heart. But his heart had stopped long ago.  
  
“When we were in the school and that amulet took over, I knew he wasn’t going to be leaving with us. And I didn’t want to go. I would have stayed down there and died with him. He wouldn’t let me. He _made_ me leave. Threw my words of love back in my face and forced me to go. Damn stubborn vampire.”  
  
Angel chuckled at that. He knew how stubborn Spike could be. But, at the same time, he was capable of such great love. And he would protect those he loved with his life. Had protected.  
  
“It’s okay, Buffy. This thing with us was never going to work anyway. I just want you to be happy. If Spike makes you happy, that’s good enough for me.”  
  
“Thanks, Angel,” she replied softly.  
  
“Now, are you about done in here? You need to rest.”  
  
“Oh my god! First Spike, then Giles... and now you!” she griped. “But, as a matter of fact I am done in here. I’m going to go watch TV. In the living room.”  
  
She got up from the chair and slowly made her way around the desk. She was feeling weak again, but refused to give the vampire the satisfaction of her whining and slowly made her way to the office door. 

Angel watched her awkward movements. _‘Damn girl is as hardheaded as Spike ever thought to be.’_  
  
One minute Buffy was walking towards the door, her groans echoing soundlessly in her mind, the next, she was in Angel’s arms.  
  
“Dammit, Angel, put me down. I can walk just fine.”  
  
“Uh huh. You just don’t know when to quit, do you? Spike would have your ass, and you know it!” 

Buffy crossed her arms in front of her and pouted as Angel carried her to the living room and deposited her gently on the couch. He stood, grabbed the remote off the coffee table and handed it to her. Buffy gave him a dirty look but mumbled a thank you.  
  
“Need anything else?”  
  
“No, I’m fine,” she groused, still pouting at his highhandedness.  
  
“Good. Relax and don’t get up. Call Dawn if you need anything. I’m going to catch a few more hour’s sleep.” He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and quickly left the room. He hadn’t slept in what seemed like forever, and he was walking dead on his feet.


	24. Chapter 24

Several hours later, Dawn came out of the dining room to check on Buffy. For her part, Buffy was bored to tears, but her slowly deteriorating condition prevented her from leaving the confines of the couch. The spell Giles had done last night had helped, but whatever was coursing through her body was quickly adapting, bent on its destructive path. At the rate things were going, Buffy figured she had only a few days left.  
  
Wiping the negative thoughts from her mind, she looked up at Dawn. “Hey, Dawnie! How’s the research coming?”  
  
Dawn sat on the floor next to the couch and faced Buffy. Her sister’s expression told her all she needed to know. They were getting nowhere. She reached out and ran her hand down Dawn’s hair. “Don’t worry, Dawnie. We’ve faced worse than this and been fine. You’ll see.”  
  
“I know. It’s just that Giles, way smart. And, Wesley and Fred, they’re both also good with the research. We should have found _something_ by now.”  
  
“It’ll come, Dawnie. So, is everyone taking a lunch break?”  
  
“I think so. Can I get you something? Some more soup?”  
  
“Soup would be good,” Buffy lied. The thought of eating right now unsettled her already sore stomach, but she needed to give her sister something to do to take her mind off things.  
  
“One bowl of chicken noodle soup coming right up,” Dawn replied, getting to her feet.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Dawn brought Buffy her soup then returned to the kitchen to make herself a sandwich. Giles joined her in the kitchen, asking where the other girls were.  
  
“They went back to the festival. Today is the last day.”  
  
Giles mumbled some kind of acknowledgement; he almost dropped the pot he was filling with water when Dawn squeaked.  
  
“Oh god. I almost forgot! Giles, I’ve got to go pick up something I forgot to get yesterday. Will you be okay here without me for a couple hours?”  
  
“Hmmm, oh yes. Fine. Go ahead.”  
  
“Thanks, Giles! Oh, and can you let Buffy know where I went? I don’t want her to get worried.” She rushed off to grab her purse and was out the door in a whirlwind of teenage exuberance.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
_She held the sword before her ready to block her attacker’s thrust. She couldn’t see his face because of the hood, but she knew she was dealing with evil personified. Over and over he swung, trying to find an opening. Each time, she blocked him. But she was growing weaker. Soon her tired arms would give way, allowing him the chance to connect his sword with her vulnerable flesh._  
  
_On a particularly violent round of thrusts and parries, his hood fell back revealing his face. Black, soulless eyes started back at her. Unusual markings adorned his face. A maniacal grin transformed his features. All too soon, her arm strength gave out and his sword ripped into her stomach._  
  
_His face twisted with glee as his aim was true. Buffy dropped the sword and clutched at her middle, attempting to stem the flow of blood. She glanced down at the wound taking her eyes off her attacker. There was no blood. Moving her hands away from her injury, she noticed that her stomach had turned blue. She glanced at her hands to see that they had become pale with rivulets of blue snaking up from her fingertips to disappear beneath her shirt._  
  
_“What have you done to me?” she screamed._  
  
_“The time is at hand for us to rule and you are the link standing in our way. When you are gone along with your line, I will be given a place of honor in the new order. It is just a matter of time.”_  
  
_“Nooo…” she moaned. Then her voice became stronger, defiant, “You will not succeed. I have defeated worse than you could ever dish out. I will not let you win.”_  
  
_He walked forward towards the girl resting on her knees, her body wracked in pain, yet still staring up at him mutinously._  
  
_“Succeed?” He ran his hand down her face to cup under her chin. “I have already succeeded.” Damius released her face, letting her body crumple to the ground._  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Spike came awake to the sound of an erratic heartbeat. “Buffy,” he whispered, throwing off the sheet. Pausing long enough to throw on a pair of jeans to cover his naked body, he raced out the door and down the stairs.  
  
“Buffy!” he hollered, running unerringly towards the living room. The heartbeat that was once erratic was now very faint. He pulled up short when he saw her looking so lifeless lying there on the couch. For a moment, he thought she was dead, she was so still. But he calmed, reminding himself that he could still make out her heartbeat, however faint it was. That had him rushing forward again to her side, kneeling before her. He lifted a trembling hand to her face, praying that she would open her eyes and look at him. He’d never been more scared in his unlife.  
  
“Buffy, love. Wake up. Look at me,” he pleaded. He reached out to smooth her hair from her face and was shocked by how cold she felt. Panic started to set in, and he looked up towards the entryway to see Angel standing there, torment mirroring his own.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Spike’s anguished cry had people running from various directions in the house. Angel had heard Spike rush by the room he was taking a nap in. He, too, had heard the erratic heartbeat but had been slower to react because of his lack of sleep. But he wasn’t far behind Spike when he finally reached the living room.  
  
Giles, Fred, and Wesley had come rushing out of the dining room. They came to an abrupt halt when they noticed Buffy’s appearance as Spike knelt beside her. She had obviously deteriorated rapidly in the last few hours.  
  
Giles shoved emotion aside and walked into the room, stopping as he reached the back of the sofa. He ran a hand over Buffy’s head, reassuring himself that she was still alive, then looked at Spike. He hadn’t seen Spike so devastated since Buffy had jumped off the tower to save Dawn’s life.  
  
“Spike,” he began, his voice breaking. 

Spike looked up at the watcher. “Rupert, what happened? The magic?”  
  
“The magic was only a temporary fix, Spike, not a cure. Apparently, whatever is invading Buffy’s body has overcome the feeble spell we cast last night. Right now, our only hope lies with finding this Draemuir demon and determine what he has used to harm Buffy.” He glanced around at the others as he said this. Then he turned back to Spike.  
  
“Spike, let’s get Buffy back into bed.” 

Spike looked up at the watcher and nodded. Almost reverently, he lifted Buffy into his arms to carry her back upstairs. The others trailed behind him.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Dawn came home a few minutes later. She hid her gift that she had purchased for Spike in the office before heading towards the living room to check on Buffy; she could hear the faint noise from the television. When she got there, she was surprised to find the TV on but no one there. Frowning, she turned and started for the dining room.  
  
_‘That’s weird,’_ she thought to herself when she noticed the books still scattered out on the table but finding the room was empty as well.  
  
“Giles,” she called out as she walked into the kitchen. No one. Everyone was gone. Then, she noticed the quiet. Eerie quiet, the something-bad-has happened type of quiet. _‘Buffy,’_ she thought and raced upstairs to look for her sister.  
  
She screeched to a halt just inside her open doorway when she saw everyone in her room.  
  
“Buffy,” she whispered. Five sets of eyes turned to look at her. Her gaze settled on the piercing blue of Spike’s.  
  
“’Bit,” he got out, pushing away from the bed and walking towards her.  
  
“Is she–?“ Dawn began, but couldn’t finish the thought. Spike was by her side in an instant and pulled her in to a hug, attempting to soothe her.  
  
“No, Platelet. She’s sleeping, is all. See,” he replied and turned her towards the sleeping figure lying on the bed. “Why don’t you go sit next to her?”  
  
Dawn nodded and walked on shaky legs to the bed and sat down in the chair that had been pulled over. 

Spike’s anger was slowly reaching the boiling point; he needed some type of release or risk going crazy. Turning away from the scene, he stormed out of the room and headed up to the third floor. Maybe a little exercise would help. Angel looked at Giles for a moment then followed Spike. Between the two of them, they should be able to work off some of their helpless frustration.  
  
“Dawn, why don’t you stay here and keep Buffy company. We’re going to head back downstairs and continue our research. Come and get us if she wakes up or starts thrashing in her sleep.” Giles told her, after the two vampires had abruptly departed.  
  
Dawn nodded distractedly as she took Buffy’s hand in hers, her eyes not leaving her sister’s face.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Spike walked into the training room, game face already on. Reaching the wall with the weapons, he pulled down a sword and walked towards the far side of the room. Angel took his shirt, shoes and socks off, leaving just his pants on to match Spike’s attire. He, too, grabbed a weapon, slipped into game face as he turned around and faced Spike.  
  
They weren’t really battling against each other. But their demons needed a release, needed to inflict violence. Sparing with each other gave them that. It also prepared them for when they finally found Buffy’s attacker. And it was when, not _if_ , for there was no doubt in either of their minds that they would find him. They were predators, and the hunt would be on tonight. They were just waiting for the sun to set. 

For now, they sparred. 

~*~*~*~*~  
  
Angel and Spike had showered and just finished their mugs of blood when the sun disappeared over the horizon. Grabbing Angel’s empty mug, Spike rinsed both out in the sink. A short trip to the dining room to inform Giles that they were off to patrol, and Spike was out the door and on the move, leaving it to Angel to gather the slayers and catch up.  
  
“We will find him, Giles,” Angel said after Spike left. “We’re not coming back until we do. We’ll take the girls out for a while. But we can’t have them with us on this hunt. This is something we have to do alone. They would only slow us down.”  
  
Giles nodded at him. “Just be careful. We don’t know how powerful this demon is. Try to bring him back alive.”  
  
Angel gave him a look, but wisely made no promises.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
After the patrol party left, Giles and the others got back to work. He gave himself a few more hours to try and find some alternate means for Buffy before he had to voice his interpretation of the prophecy Wesley had received and the additional passage he had found. Pushing his grim thoughts aside, he willed himself to find the right book to make the situation better.  
  
The three were deeply engrossed in their respective books when the phone rang about an hour later. Giles stood up so fast his chair toppled over; he rushed off to get the extension in the office.  
  
“Hullo,” he gasped out after his un-watcher-like dash to the office, praying he’d gotten to the phone before the person hung.  
  
“Giles?” a female voice questioned.  
  
“Willow?”  
  
“Yep, it’s me. I just wanted to let you know that I’m on my way. I was in France when I got Buffy’s email this morning, and I caught the first flight out. I’m at the airport now and should be there in about an hour.”  
  
“Huh? Willow, I’m confused. You’re saying you’re here in Rome? Right now?” he asked.  
  
“Yep. Buffy sent me an email this morning. Giles? Where is Buffy going?”  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
_“Giles? Where is Buffy going?”_

Willow’s innocent question played over and over in Giles’ head. He gripped the phone tightly in his hand and debated how to respond. In the end, he took the easy way out. _‘Better to tell her in person,’_ he reasoned.  
  
“We’ll discuss everything when you arrive.”  
  
“Okay. Oh, the luggage turnstiles are starting. I’ll see you in a bit. Bye, Giles.” Then the line went dead. 

Heaving a sigh, Giles went back to the dining room to let the others know about Willow’s arrival.  
  
“Fred, Wesley, you remember Willow?”  
  
At their nods and murmured assents, he went on. “Well, apparently, Buffy sent her an email telling her to come. It appears she’s in Rome as we speak and should be here within the hour.”  
  
“Well, that could be a bit of good news, actually, Rupert.”  
  
“How so?” he asked. At this point, he’d take any good news he could get.  
  
“For one thing, this whole attack on Buffy has me puzzled. If it were a normal battle, her Slayer healing abilities, such that they are, should have easily been able to repair the damage done to her body. This leads me to believe that some type of magic may be involved, maybe even some form of the dark arts.”  
  
Fred picked up with Wesley’s thought, and finished for him. “And, if magic is involved, it would give off some type of residual energy, almost like a homing beacon. And, who better to find that signature than a witch?” she exclaimed, excitedly.  
  
“Yes! Yes, of course! I don’t know why I didn’t think of that before! With all that’s happened, I didn’t even think about the possibility of this attacker doing magic.”  
  
It was the break that they had been looking for, and the three got back to work, eagerly awaiting the arrival of the redheaded witch.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
It was dark when the taxi pulled up to the house. Thanking the driver, Willow grabbed her bags and made her way to the front door.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
A splash of red dashed by as Spike rounded the corner. They were on their way back to drop off the girls so that Angel and he could go hunting. _‘Red?’_ Then he sniffed the air. It was her. He broke into a jog to catch up with her. Stopped and stared as she raised her hand to knock on the door.  
  
“Hey, Red!”  
  
At the sound of that name, one she hadn’t heard in so long, Willow whirled around. She took in the bleach-blond hair, the black duster and clothes.  
  
“ _Spike_?”  
  
“Yep!”  
  
“But how? You died… you know… in Sunnydale… with the whole fire and whoosh thing… the whole huge crater thing,” she babbled.  
  
“You can thank the good people at Wolfram  & Hart. They brought me back. Thought the Big Bad was gonna be on their side. But I haven’t been on that side for a while now. I stuck around helping out Angel in L.A. Now I’m here.” As he finished his brief summary, Angel and the others walked up.  
  
“Angel? What are you doing here? What in the world is going on?” she asked, confused.  
  
“Let’s go inside, Red. We’ll let the watcher explain. Then you can go say hello to Buffy.” He walked past her and opened the door, picking up her bags as he went. Willow trailed after him, thoroughly perplexed, followed by the rest of the patrol party, who were unusually quiet.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
“Oi! Watcher!” Spike hollered and he walked through the entryway and dropped Willow’s baggage in the foyer. “Willow is here!”  
  
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Spike could hear Giles mutter. “Damn vampire, doesn’t have to shout. Could just walk down to the bloody dining room.”  
  
“I heard that,” Spike smirked as he reached said dining room.  
  
“Willow, hello. It’s good to see you,” Giles greeted. “You’ve met Fred and Wesley, of course.” 

Willow bobbed her head yes, as she came into the room. “Uh, Giles? What’s going on? Why are all these people here? And where in the world is Buffy going that I had to leave France and rush to Rome and say goodbye?” 

That last question effectively silenced everyone in the room. If Spike could, he would have paled even more.  
  
Giles stood up, snatched the glasses off his face and whipped out his handkerchief to begin a thorough cleaning. He didn’t know where to begin.  
  
“Um, actually, Buffy isn’t going anywhere. She’s hurt. Badly, as a matter of fact. She was probably scared when she wrote you and wanted to have you near.” The color drained from Willow’s face at Giles’ words. Deflated, she collapsed into one of the dining room chairs.  
  
“But, how?” she whispered.  
  
“We’re working on that. And, now that you’re here, we’re hoping you could help.”  
  
“Anything!”  
  
Giles put his cleaned glasses back on his face and sat back down. He told Willow everything that had happened to Buffy with regards to her attacker, including the part that magic might be involved.  
  
“So, since you’re here, we were hoping you could do a type of locator spell that could pick up on any dark magic that may have been conducted in or around Rome.” 

Both Angel and Spike perked up Giles’ words, intuitively sensing what he was trying to accomplish. 

“No problem. You guys still keep your magic room stocked, right?”  
  
At Giles’ nod, Willow said she needed to grab a few things and would be back momentarily. Spike turned to Angel, an excited gleam in his eye. 

_‘Finally! We’re getting somewhere!’_ he thought.


	25. Chapter 25

Willow came back with the ingredients for the spell. She set everything up in the main foyer, claiming that she’d need the space. Then, she turned and asked Giles, “You said it was magic that was affecting Buffy, right? Like a type of poison in her system.” 

He nodded yes and she turned to regard Spike who hovering nearby.  
  
“I’m going to need a little of her blood, preferably near her original wound. Can you do that for me?” 

A stricken look crossed his face, but Spike nodded and left the room. She glanced at Angel, but his face was an immovable mask, his emotions locked behind the sturdiest of cages.  
  
~*~*~*~*~

Spike climbed the staircase, dreading the task that Red had given him. But if it would help locate the sadistic bastard that had hurt his girl…  
  
Dawn glanced around as Spike walked into the bedroom. When he pulled out a small dagger from the bedside table she whispered, “What are you gonna do with that?” 

Spike looked at her, not quite sure what to say. “Uh, Red’s here. She’s gonna do a spell to help locate that bast, er, the demon that did this. But she needs a little bit of Buffy’s blood.”  
  
“Oh... okay,” she said softly, trusting Spike.  
  
“Can you get me a plastic cup out of the bathroom, ‘Bit?” He’d rather not have her in the room as he nicked her sister’s stomach with the dagger. Dawn got up and left to get what he needed, leaving Spike alone with the Slayer. He sat on the end of the bed and pulled down the sheet to expose the wound on her stomach. The blue was once more pronounced, and the blue veins were starting to work their way down her arms and legs.  
  
Placing a hand on her stomach to keep her still, he inserted the dagger a half an inch into her stomach right near the jagged scar. Buffy made no protest; wherever she was right now, she was beyond pain. Dawn came back with the cup and Spike pushed it lightly into her side to allow gravity to drain her blood into the cup. When the small cup was a quarter of the way full with blood and poison, he pulled it away from her body and leaned down to lick the residual blood off her stomach and help close the small wound he’d made. Then he resettled the covers around her, brushed a quick kiss to her brow and left the room. The faster Willow performed her spell, the quicker he could mete out his revenge.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
The spell took no time at all and as soon as the destination became clear, both vampires were gone, coats billowing behind them in their haste. They took Angel’s company car, and were near the old farmhouse Willow spoke of in under an hour. Parking some distance away so as not to alert the demon, they trekked the remaining mile on foot.  
  
As they neared the farmhouse, they stopped to sniff the air. They could detect no human presence. Cautiously, they made their way inside. Both vampires went through the house in record time. No one was there. They decided to check the barn, just in case. There were no animals inside, which made them immediately suspicious. As they neared the end of the barn, they noticed that the bundles of hay were arranged in a weird manner.  
  
Spike glanced at Angel and spoke softly, “Is it me, or is that hiding something?”  
  
They walked around trying to find some type of catch. On the second pass, Angel noticed a small lever. He gave it a tug, and a soft whir sounded in the barn. The board holding the bales of hay slid to the side revealing an underground cave. 

Spike gave Angel a pointed look before he started down the stairs. Whatever might be down there wasn’t going to be alive for much longer. As they reached the bottom, they heard rustling coming from a room at the end of the hall. They moved forward slowly, their feet not making a sound on the stone floor. Each took up positions on either side of the door, swords drawn. At a nod from Spike, Angel kicked the door in sending it crashing against the far wall. 

~*~*~*~*~  
  
Damius looked up from his scroll to see two enraged vampires enter the chamber. 

Seeing the demon that had hurt his slayer sent Spike into a rage. Wasting no more time, he charged, leaping over the table in his rush to get to him.  
  
Damius lifted his sword off the table at the last moment, deflecting most of the blow. The vampire had moved so fast, he had barely reached his sword in time. 

Spike landed nimbly on his feet and turned to face the demon. Angel stood before the door, sword ready, and let Spike fight. His demon demanded the right, and Angel would not be the one to interfere.  
  
“You’re dead, demon. Tell me what you’ve done to the Slayer, and I’ll make it quick.”  
  
“You think killing me is going save your precious slayer? Even now the poison is coursing through her body. Her slayer healing is no match for our magic. What my people have wrought is before even your time, vampire,” Damius taunted. The clanking of swords rang out in the chamber. Damius was careful to keep the vampire at a distance so as not to disrupt his markings.  
  
Both were evenly matched, but Spike had rage and the desire for revenge on his side. In that moment, he was the cold-blooded killer he had been for over a hundred years. He stalked his prey, moving in closer and closer for the kill.   
  
Seeing his intent, Angel tried to reason with Spike.  
  
“We need him alive, Childe.”  
  
A slight clearing of the blood-lust haze that had enveloped his eyes was the only indication that Spike heard him. Changing the grip on his sword slightly, he waited for the demon to lunge. When he did, Spike sidestepped, switching his grip to hold the sword with his right hand, as he swung downward, sending both swords to the ground. With his left hand, Spike drew back and slammed it into the demon’s cheek.  
  
The punch caused the ink markings on the demon’s right cheek to smudge. Damius reared back as if mortally wounded.  
  
“Damn you, vampire! I was not ready to return,” he yelled, black eyes boring into Spike’s. The demon disappeared right before Spike’s and Angel’s eyes.  
  
“Bloody fucking hell!” Spike raged. “Where did he go?”  
  
Angel walked over and put his hand on Spike’s shoulder. “You smudged his markings. They were his ties to this dimension.”  
  
“Shoulda’ just bloody killed him. At least then I would have been satisfied,” Spike grumbled.  
  
“Come on, let’s get the books and head back to the house. Maybe something in there can tell us what was used on Buffy.”  
  
Sighing, Spike turned away from the spot where the demon had disappeared. They both made quick work of gathering the various tomes before leaving the farmhouse behind.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Spike walked into the house, several books held in his hands. He made his way to the dining room and dumped the lot on the table. Without a word, he turned on his heels and left the room, wanting nothing more than to see Buffy, hold her close.  
  
He paused in the doorway and saw Dawn still sitting in the chair, but with her head on the bed, fast asleep. He walked over and ran his hand over Dawn’s hair. “Niblet? Come on, ‘Bit, wake up,” he called softly. She stirred and looked up at him.  
  
“Huh? Spike?”  
  
“Off to bed with you. I’m here now. Go get some sleep and you can sit with her once you wake up.” She nodded, and slowly pushed her way to her feet. Spike walked her to the door and watched as she made her way down the hall to her room. Only after she closed her bedroom door did Spike step back and do the same.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
“What’s all this stuff?” Giles asked after Spike’s abrupt departure.  
  
Angel stared at the opening Spike has disappeared through for a moment, lost in thought. Mentally shaking himself, he turned to answer Giles.  
  
“This stuff,” he began, placing the items he also carried down on the table, “is all that we could get from the demon’s hideout. Hopefully, there is something in here that can be of use to us.”  
  
“And the demon?”  
  
“Gone.” Angel answered shortly.  
  
“But, I told you we needed it alive–” Giles began. 

Angel cut him off. “Look, I know what you said. And believe me; we did everything we could to keep that thing here. We didn’t kill it. Its damn markings got smudged during the fight and the thing just disappeared right before our eyes.”  
  
“I’m sorry, Angel. I know you both would have done everything in your power. It’s just that it would have saved us some much needed time if we had a place to start. And time is not in our favor, I’m afraid.”  
  
Angel sighed and nodded. They were all frustrated, and getting into a yelling match would not help matters. Angel picked up a scroll and a huge book, handing one to Wesley and the other to Giles.  
  
“These were the things that the demon was looking at when we burst in. Maybe this would be a good starting point,” Angel said, effectively breaking the tension that had settled around the dining room.  
  
Giles glanced down at the scroll, noted the dialect, and grabbed another book to help him translate. Wesley glanced at the title of the book he was given then began thumbing through the text. Fred and Willow got up and they each grabbed a book from the pile that Spike and Angel had brought back from the farmhouse. Seeing the occupants of the room settle down into research-mode once more, Angel left to get some blood out of the refrigerator. Research wasn’t his forte and it wouldn’t do for him to stand over them, lurking. He decided to head to the Rome offices of Wolfram & Hart to see if he could find any information on this demon, the Draemuir dimension, how the hell it got here and why.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
“This can’t be right,” Wesley mumbled to himself some hours later about an hour before dawn.  
  
“What’s that, Wes?” Fred asked.  
  
“I think I’ve found out what that demon did to Buffy,” he said. He quickly outlined the ingredients of the elixir that were used. Then he dropped the bombshell. “It cannot be undone. This… this spell, poison, whatever you want to call it. There is no way to counteract it. It’s sole purpose is to kill the soul.”  
  
The other occupants of the room leaned back in their respective chairs, devastated.  
  
“Surely, there is something?” Giles asked, refusing to believe.  
  
“I’m sorry, Rupert. Here take a look.” Wesley handed the book to him. Giles read the script, his face going pale.  
  
“Oh. dear. Lord.”  
  
As if to punctuate the gloomy mood that had settled over the room, a distant clap of thunder was heard followed by the pounding of rain against the windows. Obviously, they were in for a big storm today. The front door opening and closing broke the silence in the dining room. Angel walked in, happy to have a bit of good news to share with the others. He stepped into the dining room and noticed the defeated faces of those around him, unable to meet his eyes.  
  
“What is it?” he barked out.  
  
“Angel,” Fred began, but then faltered. “I don’t know how… we just found out what spell that demon used. There’s no way to counteract it,” she said quietly.  
  
Angel refused to react to her words. He held his emotions tightly in check, but inside, he was raging. If he could go back to the farmhouse and kill that demon, he wouldn’t think twice. He could feel his control start to slip so he turned on his heel to leave the room.  
  
“That may not be entirely true.” 

Giles words stopped him cold and Angel spun around, eyes flashing yellow, to pin the watcher with a glare.


	26. Chapter 26

_“That may not be entirely true.”_  
  
Just a sliver of hope, but enough to cling to. At this point, Angel would take anything. _Anything_.  
  
“There may be repercussion. It’s why I’ve hesitated to mention it before now.” Giles broke off, removing his glasses so that he could put his thumb and forefinger over his closed eyes to keep the tears at bay. He took a steadying breath, then looked up at the other occupants of the room. “I need to retrieve some things from my room. Why don’t we take a break for a few hours? We’ve all been going nonstop. Willow, you’ve done nothing but a spell and research since you arrived. How about if we all meet back here at,” he stopped to glance at his watch. 6:00 a.m. “11 o’clock? That will allow us to catch an hour or two of sleep and get refreshed.”  
  
Feeling much steadier since his announcement, Giles began issuing directions. “Willow, your old room is available. Perhaps Fred can bunk with you?” At her nod, the two girls left, each retrieving one of Willow’s two suitcases that were still in the main foyer.  
  
“Wesley, how’s the couch in the living room sound?”  
  
“Rupert, right about now, the floor sounds inviting,” he replied, exhaustion evident in his voice.  
  
“Good. Angel, you know where you are.” Nodding at Giles, Angel left, followed by Giles and Wesley.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Buffy woke feeling as if her whole body was encased in ice. “Cold,” she mumbled, her eyes fluttering open. Weakly, she tried to bring the covers up around her shoulders to get herself warm.  
  
“Hey! You’re awake,” Spike whispered. He leaned up to look at her and felt like he had been kicked in the gut. Blue lines were slowly creeping their way up her neck, just cresting her jaw line. He reached out and ran his hand lovingly down the side of her face.  
  
“Cold.”  
  
“Well, let’s see if we can take care of that, pet.” He climbed out of bed and pulled on his jeans. He walked to the closet and grabbed a couple of blankets. Unfolding each one, he draped them in layers over Buffy’s body.  
  
“Better, love?” he asked when he was finished. She nodded and gave him a weak smile.  
  
“Oh, guess who showed up last night? Willow. I could see if she’s awake. Would you like that?” She gifted him with a tremulous smile and nodded. He smiled back at her and told her he’d be right back. He opened the bedroom door and stepped out into the hallway. Noticing Rupert’s bedroom door open, Spike crossed the hall to peer inside. The watcher was rushing around in his room, anxious.  
  
“Rupert?” he called out, trying to get the older man’s attention.  
  
Giles stopped what he was doing and looked up guiltily at Spike. Spike’s eyes narrowed; he could hear the pounding of the watcher’s heart, his nervousness, and he sniffed the air. Was that fear?  
  
“What the bloody hell is going on, Watcher?”  
  
Giles backed up a step when he heard the underlying menace in that question. Giles willed his heart rate to slow down, knowing his pounding heart was feeding Spike’s sudden rage. True, Spike had a soul now and obviously fought on the side of good. But, a soul alone would never hinder him the way his chip once would have. It was something he had tried to explain to Buffy, but to no avail.  
  
Taking a calming breath, he spoke. “Spike, we’re about to meet downstairs to go over some developments. If you would care to join us?”  
  
Spike tilted his head to the side, regarding the watcher for a moment. Giles met his gaze, unflinching. Spike let it go for now.  
  
“Can’t,” he said in response to Giles’ invitation. “Buffy’s awake and I told her I’d go get Red for her.”  
  
“Maybe it’s for the best. We can discuss it later.” Secretly, Giles was a happy that Spike wouldn’t be there as he broke the news to the others. He had always been an emotional vampire and Giles had no way of knowing how he would take the news. Thankfully, Angel was there. Whatever past the two vampires have had, they appeared to have come to a tentative truce. Maybe when Spike found out, Angel could be a calming factor in the face of Spike’s rage. “Willow is a few doors down the hall, in the room next to Dawn’s. She should be up since we had tentatively decided to get together at eleven and it’s just about that time now.”  
  
“I’ll get Red to sit with Buffy and then I’ll be downstairs for your little pow-wow session.” 

Giles nodded and went back to gathering the things he would need to explain his understanding of the prophecy. 

Spike left the room in search of Willow.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Spike was just about to knock on the door to Willow’s room when the door opened inward. Lowering his hand, he said a polite hello to Fred. Willow walked up behind her and greeted Spike.  
  
“What’s up, Spike?”  
  
“Buffy’s awake and would like to see you.”  
  
“She is… oh… that’s wonderful,” Willow gushed. “I’ll just go…” Spike smiled as the redhead darted around him and rushed off to Buffy’s room.  
  
“I’m just gonna head downstairs,” Fred said.  
  
Spike stepped back out of her way. He glanced over and saw Dawn’s door open. “I’ll be down in a sec. I’m just gonna talk to Niblet for a minute.”  
  
“Niblet? Oh, you mean Dawn. Okay.” Spike walked off to see how Dawn was doing while Fred headed towards the stairs to see about Giles’ new development.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Angel, Wesley, and Fred were the only ones in the office when Giles walked in and shut the door. Gripping the tattered scroll tightly in his hands he crossed silently to his seat behind the desk. Rather than put off what he had to say, and wanting to get through as much as possible before Spike arrived, he launched right into his interpretation.  
  
“Wesley, you brought the translation to the original prophecy you received?”  
  
“I’ve got it right here,” he said, producing a copy of the translation.  
  
“Good. Reread the first stanza for me.”  
  
“Spawned from darkness and evil. Yet, but for love willingly chose. To give up the demon inside. For which a soul now grows.”  
  
“When we first translated it we thought of Angel,” Fred offered.  
  
“Yes, I could see where you might make that mistake,” Giles commented. “The next part, Wesley.”  
  
“As the one grows weak. And begins to decay. A kiss, mixed with blood. To keep death at bay,” Wesley read.  
  
“And the last part,” Giles urged.  
  
“A price will be paid. To save the one’s life. Forever immortal. No longer among light.”  
  
“Yes, unfortunately, it all makes sense now.”  
  
“What make sense, Giles?” This from Angel. He’d heard the translation before and it made no more sense now than it did the first time he heard it. Except for the first part and how it had seemed to be centered around him.  
  
“While I was in England trying to decipher the text from it’s original form, I came across a short passage. Quite by chance, actually.”  
  
“Don’t keep us in suspense, Rupert. Tell us already,” Wesley said.  
  
“Yes, of course.” Taking a deep breath, he picked up a single sheet of paper and read. Not that he needed to read from the paper. The memorized words written on the sheet of paper he held taunted him.  
  
“Two demon’s compromise. An ensouled phoenix shall arise. Mixed blood interwoven. To save all chosen. From unequivocal demise.” He put sheet of paper down on the desk. Pulling off his glasses, he threw them on top of the discarded paper, disgust with himself and the whole situation evident in his stiff bearing. His slayer was about to become that which she had spent the last seven years killing. But, two, not one demon would be battling within her body. And, if Buffy did not agree to it… well, she held not only her fate, but also the fate of the other slayers in her hand.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Willow was shocked when she walked into Buffy’s room and saw the condition her friend was in. It was the first time she’d had a chance to see Buffy since arriving. Things had been real hectic from the moment she had walked through the front door. Plus, Buffy hadn’t been up to receiving visitors.  
  
“Buffy! Hey,” she whispered softly. The email Buffy had sent came back to her and understanding dawned on her face. Buffy _knew_ that she was dying.  
  
“Xander?” Buffy croaked.  
  
Willow shook her head. She hadn’t heard from him in a while, and she didn’t know if Xander had received Buffy’s email or not. After the events of Sunnydale, Xander had gone off on his own once they had reached England. Remorse about Anya had hardened the once-comical, fun-loving man. Trying to escape the memories of his years in Sunnydale, he had left his friends, choosing to wander alone in distant countries, occasionally finding a new slayer to send back to Buffy or Giles. His emails of late had gotten more sporadic, as if he was drifting away from his friends, trying to leave his old life behind. When Buffy had sent the email, she wasn’t sure if Xander would get it in time, but she had to try. He was her friend, even thought they didn’t always see eye to eye on things, and she had wanted to say goodbye.  
  
Seeing Buffy’s melancholy, Willow tried to lighten her mood. “Don’t worry, Buffy. Giles has a new theory. He’s actually talking to the gang about it now. We’re gonna make this better, you’ll see.”  
  
Buffy gave her friend a reassuring smile, wanted Willow to believe that things would be alright. Unfortunately, she knew better.  
  
“Can you get… paper… pen… in the drawer?” She lifted her hand weakly to point to the nightstand drawer. Willow got up quickly to do as she asked, bring back the blank paper and pen and handing it to her. She spied a book on the table on the other side of the bed, and rushed around to grab it, giving Buffy a flat surface on which to write.  
  
Buffy attempted to write a letter to Spike, but in her much-weakened condition, she ended up only writing a few words. When she was finished, she dropped the pen on the bed beside her. Folding the letter in half, and then in half again, she brought it to her mouth to kiss. She held it out to Willow.  
  
“For Spike. After…” Buffy choked out. Willow took the note, holding it close. Tears were now falling unheeded down both girls’ cheeks.  
  
“Buffy. It’s gonna work out. You’ll see,” she cried, moving to the bed to give her friend a reassuring hug. “I told you, Giles–"  
  
Buffy shook her head. “Getting close. Can feel it.”  
  
Just then, both girls heard shouting, followed by a bellow of rage. Spike.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
“So, what are you saying? I have to turn her?” Angel demanded, yelling loudly. There was no way he was doing that to Buffy. Was Giles crazy? Buffy… a vampire? Or, was it half-vampire? Was there such a thing?  
  
The door to the office banged open to reveal one pissed off vampire in all his glory. His below of outrage most likely heard throughout the house.  
  
“No. Bloody. Fucking. Way, Watcher!” Spike hollered as he advanced into the room.  
  
“Spike, come in, please.” Gesturing to his ridged brow, he told him to relax. Spike just crossed his arms over his chest and waited.  
  
When the occupants of the room settled down once more, he went on with his explanation. “Angel, to answer your question, no you don’t have to turn her.” Then, he let his bombshell drop. Eyes locked with Spike he uttered the words that would crush, possibly both vampires. “Spike does.”  
  
“Me?” Spike whispered, confused. His demon features faded at his shock, revealing the human mask once more. Tormented blue eyes gazed back at him. “Why me?”  
  
“Because, Spike, you are the vampire described in the prophecy.” He quoted softly, “Spawned from darkness and evil. Yet, but for love willingly chose. To give up the demon inside. For which a soul now grows. You willing chose to have your soul restored. Angel was cursed with his.” Giles glanced at Angel to see how he was taking this news. A flicker of emotion before it was quickly covered by his brooding expression. Not as bad as he had expected.  
  
“But…”  
  
“Spike, Buffy had a slayer dream the other night. She hasn’t been able to tell you about it yet, but it all ties into this prophecy. With your help, she will become the new guardian of the slayers, taking the place of the First Slayer. She is bound to them through the spell conducted with the scythe before our battle with The First. If her soul were to depart this plane, all the slayers that were instantly called would lose their abilities. I think this is what that demon was trying to achieve when he attacked Buffy. By killing Buffy, we would be left with just one slayer: Faith. It would be too good of an opportunity for the Draemuir demons to pass up. We have to keep Buffy alive. Well, if not technically alive, as she would be a vampire. But, her soul would be grounded here, enabling the slayers to live.”  
  
Spike shook his head, unable to process all that Giles had told him. He turned to look at Angel. “I can’t. She’d hate me. Hate what I had done to her. Sire,” he spoke. Angel pushed up off the wall and walked over to Spike. He put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Spike was obviously distraught; so much so that he had acknowledged Angel with his title, rather than some off-the-wall nickname he would have normally used in mixed company. Angel didn’t think Spike was even aware of what he had done. “William,” he spoke softly, for his ears alone, “it must be done. She will not hate you. She couldn’t hate you. It must be done, and you will do this.” His tone brooked no argument.  
  
Their whispered words were broken up when Willow came flying down the stairs and ran into the office.  
  
“Giles! It’s Buffy. She’s–” 

She got nothing else out before two vampires raced past her, running up the stairs two and three at a time. 

They were out of time. 

It was time to fulfill the prophecy.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
_Thud. Thud._  
  
Thud. Thud.  
  
Thud. Thud.  
  
Why hadn’t he noticed before? Her heartbeat was always there – beating in the back of his mind. He should have noticed the second it started to weaken. He reached the doorway and stopped dead in his tracks. Buffy was stretched out on the bed, body bowing slightly off the surface; her head was thrown back exposing the veins running down the sides of her neck. He didn’t have much time. He walked quickly into the room and crawled up alongside her. He stripped off his shirt and flung it aside, not caring where it happened to land. Vaguely, he heard the bedroom door shut. Apparently, Angel thought it best that there should be no witnesses. And, he was grateful. If he had to look at the ‘Bit’s eyes, he didn’t think he could go through with this, prophecy be damned.  
  
He yanked the covers off Buffy and pulled her carefully into his arms. Lifted her hair back to expose the unmarked side of her throat. Before he could think better of it, he shifted and sunk his fangs in her neck, piercing her jugular. He’d had the blood of two slayers before her, but even in near-death, Buffy’s blood, by far, was the sweetest he had tasted. Even with the poison coursing through her veins. She let out a slight moan as his fangs pierced her neck, but he was so gentle and she was so far gone with pain that the slight discomfort faded quickly.  
  
Spike continued to drink from Buffy, leaning back on the bed with her draped over him as her limbs lost whatever strength she had.  
  
_Thud… thud._  
  
Thud…thud.  
  
Thud…… thud.  
  
It was time. Reaching up, he sliced his chest, right near where her lips rested. Releasing her neck, he guided her lips to his cut, willing her to drink. Rolling over so that Buffy lay beneath him, he rose up on his elbows and allowed the blood from his cut to drip down into her open mouth. She could do nothing but swallow as gravity forced the blood down her throat.  
  
_Thud…….._  
  
Thud…….  
  
With a final swallow, her heart stopped.


	27. Chapter 27

Spike tenderly kissed the blood off Buffy’s lips before extracting his arms from around her body. Almost methodically, he rearranged her limbs so that she looked like she was just resting. Then he climbed off the bed away from her lifeless body. 

He walked two steps before he lost it. Blinding rage consumed him and he lashed out at the inanimate objects in the room. Nothing was safe from his path of destruction. Lamps, chairs – they all went flying as his grief tore through him. He cursed the fates, God, everyone, for making him do this.  
  
The bedroom door flew open as Spike continued his rampage. Angel could understand how Spike felt. He had stood outside her door, keeping everyone away, and listened as Buffy’s heart slowed and then finally stopped. But he couldn’t let Spike beat himself up over this. This was beyond Spike, beyond all of them. It had been preordained, and Spike was just a pawn in Fate’s machinations. It was time to remind Spike of that fact.  
  
Angel grabbed Spike from behind before he could pull out the drawers to the dresser and fling them about. His fury was so great Spike just shrugged Angel off.  
  
“Spike!” Angel hollered, once more grabbing him, trying to get him to calm down. “Spike! Stop it!”  
  
“Ow!”   
Spike had just elbowed him in the stomach, attempting to break the hold. Angel didn’t let go however, and from one moment to the next the rage wore off and the anguish took over. Spike became a dead weight in his arms. He began to almost hyperventilate. An eery moan made the proverbial hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Then the dam broke.   
Spike sank to the floor as his legs gave out, taking Angel right along with him as he’d yet to let him go. The tears came then, and in a show of utmost compassion, pulled Spike into his arms and provided protection and comfort, a first for them both.  
  
Angel didn’t say anything, just allowed Spike to grieve. Besides, there wasn’t much he could say right now. Spike was doing what Angel was unable to do, so he let Spike cry.  
  
Moments later, a blinding white light invaded the room and enveloped Buffy. Angel couldn’t help but stare in awe. For a second, he thought that he could make out the image of Cordelia. But, then, the light got even brighter around Buffy, and Angel had to shield his eyes against the glow.  
  
“Spike. Look.” Spike was still crying, but not as hard as before. Angel tried to get his attention.  
  
“William. Look at Buffy. She’s glowing.” Slowly, Spike lifted his head off Angel’s shoulder. He glanced at the bed and sucked in an unnecessary breath. Buffy was glowing. Just like an angel. He wiped his tears to clear his watery vision. Realizing where he was, he scrambled out of Angel’s embrace and stood.  
  
His slayer was glowing! Glowing! What the hell – or should he say heaven – was going on?  
  
Angel got up off the floor and came to stand beside Spike saying, “You did that, William. You are what’s keeping Buffy’s soul grounded here. So, don’t be sorry. Don’t hate yourself. True, she may be different. But, without you she would have died, taking all the others with her. Never forget that.”  
  
Silently, he left the room, leaving Spike alone with Buffy. He needed to tell Giles what was going on.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Spike hadn’t moved from where he stood gazing at his slayer when there was a knock at the door sometime later. When there was no response, the door creaked open and Giles craned his neck around the opening. He could only stare in wonder at the sight before him. As if in a trance, he walked into the room and absentmindedly shut the door behind him.  
  
“It’s true,” he whispered mostly to himself. Buffy lay in the bed and appeared to be sleeping peacefully. But, she was glowing. There really was no other way to describe it. In all his years as a watcher, in all the texts he’d read, Giles had never come across anything that described what he was seeing. It was as if her soul was a blinding burst of light, refusing to leave her body. Such a monumental event, it would need to be documented, so that watchers for years to come might know what his slayer had done – for all of them.  
  
Shaking himself from his reverie, Spike turned towards the watcher.  
  
“I need to leave her for a bit. There are things I need to do, to prepare.” He didn’t say anything else. He wasn’t about to tell the watcher of his plans. Didn’t want to hear his protests. And he would too. But, if Spike was doing this, he was going to do it right. He grabbed a clean shirt out of a drawer that, thankfully, was still attached to the dresser. He dressed quickly, told Giles to watch out for Buffy, then left the room. He didn’t know how much time he had before Buffy woke up. Normally, he would have a few days. But, then, his slayer never did anything the normal way.  
  
The skies were still dark in the early afternoon because of the continuing rain, and it allowed Spike to leave without having to worry about it being daytime. He had snagged Niblet’s keys to make it easier and quicker for him to take care of what he needed to do. His first stop was a candle shop where he loaded up on dozens of candles in varying size, shape, color, and smell. Buffy’s rebirth would be nothing if not special. Then, he scoped out a local hospital. He refused to allow Buffy’s first meal to be pig’s blood. He was determined to make her as strong as possible, and if that meant human blood, so be it. And, it wasn’t like he was going to kill humans for her to obtain it. He was just going to nick it from the donor storage facility.  
  
Leaving the car parked at an unused side exit, he walked around to the front and sneaked inside. Rather than head towards the ER department, figuring that that blood storage area would be constantly busy, he took the elevator to where surgeries were performed. Luck was on his side, and he didn’t encounter anyone in the hall.  
  
_‘Jackpot!’_ he thought as he opened the door that held all the donated blood. The freezer was packed with the stuff; it must have been just recently stocked. He grabbed a box from under a counter and started dumping bags of blood inside. He was careful to grab the more dated blood, leaving the newer stuff behind. When the box was full, he closed it then shut the cooler door. Box in hand, he swiftly made his way to the stairs, figuring people would be less likely to notice him. Down several flights and he was soon wending his way to the side exit where he had parked.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
When Spike arrived back at the house, the rain was still pouring as hard as ever. Ignoring the rain, he grabbed the five huge bags full of candles in one hand and the box of blood in the other and hurried inside. He dropped the bags in the foyer and took the box of blood into the kitchen.  
  
Once there, he opened two bags of blood and dumped them into a huge mug and stuck it in the microwave. The remaining bags were placed in the freezer. He planned on gorging himself, and Buffy, on the human blood the first few days of her unlife. And just let someone try and stop him. The buzzer sounded and he pulled the mug out and gulped down the contents.  
  
A blissful sigh escaped. Human blood. 

He had almost forgotten what it tasted like; he’d been swilling the animal stuff for so long. He was just licking his lips when Angel walked into the kitchen.  
  
“Change of diet?” Angel asked, an underlying menace in his tone. He could smell the human blood in the air.  
  
Spike returned the glare. Without a word, he opened the freezer door revealing the bags of blood.  
  
“I’m gonna do this, I’m gonna do it right,” Spike argued. “No childe of mine is going to awaken to pig’s blood. So, I paid the hospital a little visit. Hell, I even took the older stuff.” He crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for the battle ahead.  
  
Angel surprised him. “Just checking to make sure it wasn’t bodies you were stacking up in there.” 


	28. Chapter 28

Spike noticed the packages waiting for him in the foyer and his light mood evaporated. Grabbing the items, he realized that it was awfully quiet in the house. When he got to the open doorway of the bedroom, he realized why. Everyone was there, standing inside the room. Most had dazed expressions on their faces. Everyone was staring at the glowing figure on the bed with something akin to awe. He felt it too, but that didn’t mean that everyone else had to witness it, dammit! The awakening of a childe was a private matter, and these people were intruding.  
  
Seeing that Spike was about to erupt, Angel began ushering everyone out of Buffy’s room. Finally, it was just Spike, Angel, and Willow left. Willow walked over to Spike and handed him a folded piece of paper.  
  
“What’s this, Red?” he asked. Then he caught a whiff of Buffy. Brought the paper up to his nose and sniffed. Closing his eyes, he inhaled, letting her scent wash over him.  
  
“Buffy… she… asked me to... uh... you know.”  
Willow was floundering. Her friend, for all intents and purposes, was dead. And Buffy knew. Knew that she was going to die. “She said it was for after,” she whispered. So saying, she hurried from the room, not wanting to subject them to her own tears.  
  
Spike walked over to the chair Buffy used to curl up in to write in her journal. Cautiously, he unfolded the paper. He looked down at the paper and read.  
  
_Journal_  
  
_Read_  
  
_Love You_  
  
_Make Angel tell_  
  
_Cookies_  
  
The few words scribbled stared back at him. Obviously this was important to her. She must have written it right before he rushed upstairs. Right before he killed her.  
  
“What is it?” Angel asked softly.  
  
“She said she loves me. Told me to read her journal. Then, there’s something here about cookies, said to ask you.” Spike looked up at Angel questioningly.  
  
Reluctantly, Angel told him about the conversation he had with Buffy earlier. Told him about his arrival in Sunnydale before the fight with The First. About that kiss that Angel didn’t think Spike had seen, but had more than likely been able to smell. About Buffy’s subsequent talk of her being cookie dough and that one day she’d be cookies.  
  
“And, that’s what she told me yesterday. That she was now cookies. You made her cookies.” 

Hope shined in Spike’s eyes as he stared up at Angel. Maybe Buffy wouldn’t hate him when she woke up.  
  
“I’m going to leave you now. I’m sure there are things you’d like to do before Buffy awakens.” Nodding, Spike stood up and walked with Angel to the door.  
  
Angel still needed to talk with the others about what he had found out while at Wolfram & Hart. They had been sidetracked when they had heard about Buffy’s situation, and there had been no talking to any of them. Now that they’d been banished from the room, it was time to lay out a plan of attack for when Buffy rose. She was going to be needed to help close the portal to the Draemuir dimension once and for all.  
  
After Spike closed the door behind Angel, he went to the bags he had placed inside the door. Dozens upon dozens of candles were inside and he started pulling them out to set up all over the room. Then, he walked through and lit each one of them. He turned off the artificial lighting, leaving only the candles burning. While he was gone, someone, probably Angel, righted the mess he had made of the room during his earlier rampage. When the room was to his liking, he sneaked down to the kitchen once more. He opened another two packets of human blood in a mug and heated it in the microwave. He wasn’t hungry, but the more human blood he had coursing through his veins, the better it would be for Buffy. So he’d continue to eat every few hours until she awoke.  
  
He finished his mug quickly, not wanting to encounter anyone. His guilt was still riding high, and he didn’t want to see any accusing stares pointed his way. Although if he stopped to think about it, no one – except possibly Dawn – had looked at him like he was a monster. It still didn’t make him feel better. While secretly he was glad that Buffy would be around for all eternity with him, the last thing Spike had wanted to do was turn her. She was sunshine and light, not the darkness he had become so long ago.  
  
Once more closeted in the bedroom, he went to the chest that held Buffy’s journal and opened it. Various memorabilia lay within, and Spike took note of a few things. A shawl her mother once wore. A couple of pieces of art, probably stuff that had once been displayed in her mother’s room. Reaching into the box, he pulled out Buffy’s journal. He shut the lid and walked back to the chair that was placed across the room. Sitting once more, he opened the journal to the first page, and began reading Buffy’s words.  


~*~*~*~*~

_May 20, 2003_

_God I feel stupid doing this. But, Giles thought it would help. Practically demanded it is more like it. What, am I like fifteen again I yelled at him. He just gave me that uptight, pompous Watcher look and said that ‘he’ was far older than fifteen and he still kept a journal. I just rolled my eyes at him and walked away. Well, I wrote something, so there! God, I’m tired. I just want to sleep, for say, the next month straight. ___

Spike traced his fingers across the first journal entry. His slayer didn’t like to write, obviously. He had to chuckle at the uptight, pompous Watcher comment. He had always thought the same himself.

~*~

_June 1, 2003_

__

_Don’t think this is going to become an everyday occurrence. I’m just bored, that’s all. We’ve been in LA for the last ten days resting and recuperating. Hiding, if the truth be known. We’ve had no contact with the outside world. Our little group has stayed to themselves. We didn’t want to attract attention. And, we damn sure didn’t want to run into the pseudo-Scooby gang here._

__

_Giles has had Willow trying to break into bank records to enable him to become the power-of-attorney for the Council’s resources. She finally got in yesterday. Can I just say yay! Now we’ve got access to the Council’s funds. And, I have to say, when I looked at the bank balance I was shocked. Couldn’t they send a little of that cash my way??? Sheesh. Do they know what I went through two years ago? They could have spared me the humiliation of working in that Godforsaken Meat Palace! Stingy bastards!_

__

_Anyway…_

__

_Now that we’ve got access to money, we’re leaving California behind. Personally, it can’t come fast enough. The more miles between the closed Sunnydale Hellmouth and me, the better! Giles has rented a Winnebago and we’re headed to Cleveland. Apparently, there’s another Hellmouth there, and Faith is gung-ho about keeping an eye on it. More power to her! Thoughts of that camper on wheels bring back…_

Spike flipped the wrinkled page, but the entry just ended and another began. So, he continued to read. After the first initial lapse in the dates, he noticed that she started writing daily. She described her cross-country journey, how they picked up a few slayers along the way to Cleveland. She mentioned the small building they converted to a local headquarters with the help of Council money. Apparently, Giles wasn’t skimping now that he had taken over. Buffy wrote that they spent over a week there getting things set up before she, Dawn, Giles, Willow, Andrew, and Xander caught a flight out of the States headed for England.

After a bit, he looked up from the journal to glance at Buffy. She was still glowing and showed no signs of waking. And, though, he wasn’t hungry he made a quick trip to the kitchen for more human blood. Once back, he picked up the journal and re-immersed himself in her words.

__

_June 21, 2003_

__

_Well, we made it. All six of us. Although, if I have to listen to Andrew drone on and on anymore I’m going to put my slayer abilities to good use and beat the crap out of him. Damn, he doesn’t shut up! And, what’s with the damn tweed? He does realize that he doesn’t have to wear that crap to be a Watcher-in-training. Shoot, even Giles got rid of the stuffy clothing!_

__

~*~

__

_June 22, 2003_

__

_Willow and Giles would be so proud. I’ve turned into a regular research girl. Not that they’d be too happy with what I’m researching, but who cares. I’ve long since given up caring what they had to say. Well, not really. But it felt kinda good writing that. Though, this was one subject they couldn’t make me change my mind about._

__

_He gave me a starting point, and with a little unknown help from the archived computer records of the Council, it wasn’t too hard to find what I was looking for. I have his name as well as his birth and supposed death dates. So, I’m off to the Family Record Centre. Don’t ask me why I’m doing this, I probably couldn’t tell you. But, the more I know about him, even if it was the human him, the closer I feel to him._

_‘What in the bloody hell?’_ Spike thought as he looked up from the journal to stare at Buffy again. She had actually gone looking for information about him? He turned the crisp page of the journal and noticed that pages now looked slightly warped as if they had gotten wet. Some of the writing was smudged, but not unreadable. All her previous entries had lacked emotion, as if she were just reciting a blow-by-blow narrative of her time spent since the averted Sunnyhell apocalypse. Something must have happened, because the next entry had him trembling and shedding tears of his own. 

__

__

_June 25, 2003_

__

_I can’t stop crying. My heart is broken and I feel so lost. I tried going there. To that alley. Don’t ask me why. It had been over a hundred years ago, and it probably wasn’t even there. But, it was. Don’t ask me how I knew that this one was the right one, I just knew._

__

_I just wanted to feel closer to him. To my Spike. And, what better place than where he was made, that alley that Drusilla had found him in so long ago. Crying because his heart had been broken by that bitch Cecily. It had changed a little. Gone were the bails of hay. Now, a dumpster and forgotten wooden crates littered the area. I crouched down behind a few, holding my knees to my chest and lost it. I sat there in that dank alley and thought about my life and what I had done over the last few years. The hateful things I said to him. Snide bitchy remarks meant to inflict pain. I knew he was trying to change. I knew it! And still I belittled him. Over and over. Just as I’m sure Cecily had. God, I’m no better than her._

__

_I remember the punishment he took at the hands of Glory, just to protect Dawn. For me. Always for me. I remember seeing his battered face, his abused torso. Glory had taken great delight in carving that smooth pale perfection. And, there I was, going to kill him. Just to keep him quiet. We couldn’t have him spilling our secret, could we? I felt shamed when he was fooled into thinking I was that Buffybot and told me, it, how if anything had happened to Dawn, it would destroy me. And, that he couldn’t stand to see me in pain. And still, bitchy me, I had to get in a lick about that damn robot._

__

_But, he came back. He thought nothing of himself as he agreed to drive us out of Sunnydale in that beat up Winnebago, still mending from his injuries. And, God, the insults and accusations he took from Giles, from Xander, from all of them. But he did it, for me. Grabbed the sharp end of a sword with his bare hands to protect me._

__

_I remember the look in his eyes when we got back to Sunnydale and I invited him back inside. The love, the adoration, the gratitude. I dismissed it all. He was evil. And, I, I was the Slayer. The chosen one, destined to kill all evil. I couldn’t afford to believe that he had feelings, that he had changed. I couldn’t take a chance. And, there was the gang. Whispering. Evil dead. Demon. Just waiting for his chance._

__

_But, did Spike take off. No. Even after I was gone. He stayed. He protected Dawn. He helped the Scoobies. He did it for me._

__

_Then, I’m dragged out of heaven. Lost and confused and back in hell on earth. Betrayed by my friends. I don’t know what to feel, my emotions were gone. And then, he punches me. Punches me! And, I could feel. Just a little. So, we fight our dance. Then, it changes and I want a different kind of dance. What I want, I get. Right? It’s not like I’m taking advantage of him. He’s wanted this for a long time. His taunting words that I’d come back wrong play in my mind. It’s the excuse I need to allow myself this contact. So, I take, and take, and take some more._

__

_Once we wake up and the haze wears off I realize what I’ve done. There’s something wrong with me. There has to be. Why would I sleep with an evil, soulless demon. His only restraint, that damn chip in his head. At least that’s what I tell myself. Never mind all the times he’s been there for me. But, I fool myself into believing there’s something wrong with me and I use him. Over and over, I use him. Only with him do I feel even slightly alive. Even after I find out that there’s nothing wrong with me, I continue to use him. I make him tell me how much he loves me, then I beat him for even daring to think that he can love. And, he just lets me. Lets me beat on him as if it’s my right. God, what kind of sick person was I? Am I?_

__

_Then, I finally tell him it’s over. But, I’ve said it before and I still come back. It’s like a game. I refuse him, he convinces me with drugging kisses, melting my resistance. Only, the last time, it wasn’t a game. And, he didn’t realize. But, it’s partly my fault. Deep inside, I knew that. Knew the mixed signals I had been sending him. Yet, when he finally realizes and stopped. Horrified at what he had done. Image that. A soulless demon horrified._

__

_And, what does my Spike do? Realizing what he’s done to me, how he’s hurt me, he runs off to Africa. For what, you might ask? A GOD DAMN SOUL. That’s what. Because, he wants to be a better man. For me. Always for me._

__

_I remember how he held me close as those final days neared to an end. Before our big confrontation with The First. How everyone – my friends, my former Watcher, even my sister – told me that I had to leave my own house. That I couldn’t be there. Couldn’t be a part of it. So I left. I walked out that door. I wandered around dazed, kicked some guy out of his own home and laid down on his bed. And the one person that comes after me is Spike. My beautiful ensouled Spike. He calmly restores my faith in myself, then holds me through the night, making sure that I’m not alone. Then he pays the ultimate sacrifice for me. And, I wish he hadn’t, because now he’s gone, and I’m all alone once more. God, I wished I’d stayed with him._

__

_I don’t know how long I sat in that alley and wept. For him. For me. For us. If my journal is anything to go by, probably two days. Time has ceased to have any kind of meaning for me right now. I sat in that alley and cried, and slept, and cried some more. Vampires, demons – they all left me alone. Although, I almost wished one had come along, ended my pain. But, as you can see, I’ll still here._

__

_I returned home eventually. Well, to Giles’ home. I didn’t have one anymore. They opened the door when I knocked (yeah, I knocked. I don’t know why.) They were all with the whispered words, worried glanced they passed back and forth between one another that they thought I didn’t see. But, I see everything now. Everything is so clear. They never asked me where I had been. And, I never  
talked about it. To anyone. Only here. Where I can pour out my heart and soul for a vampire I realized I loved, too little too late._

Spike ran his hand over the last line of the entry. Tears fell from his eyes to blend with – what he could only assume – were her dried ones on the crinkled pages. Something had caused the pages to warp. It tormented him that she had cried for him. And he kicked himself for not coming to her sooner. Even if he _had_ been temporarily bound to Los Angeles. And Wolfram  & Hart.

He turned the page of her journal and read about how she had left England soon thereafter. She couldn’t bear the memories of England and wanted to leave them behind, leave all of them behind. With her sister, she had traveled for the summer before they needed to settle some place and get Dawn enrolled in school. She had covered a lot of ground in a few short months, then finally decided on Rome. She figured that the Catholic capital of the world was as safe a place as any to live. He had to chuckle at her naiveté. For all the churches it possessed, it still provided an irresistible lure for demons.

Xander and Willow had also eventually departed Giles’ side, each going to opposite ends of the globe in search for new slayers, and to perhaps escape their own personal demons. Only Andrew had stayed with Giles, slowly helping him to rebuild the Watcher’s Council. Spike stopped once he reached the point in her journal where he had shown up. He’d save that for another time. Buffy should be waking soon, and he needed to feed some more and bring the extra bags of human blood up to the room. Maybe he could even manage to nick the microwave. Once Buffy awoke, he had plans to be barricaded in the room for at least a week.


	29. Chapter 29

Spike stripped and crawled into bed beside Buffy. The glow was starting to diminish around her, almost as if it knew that she would soon be waking. He gazed down at her – willing her to wake up and look at him, tell him she wasn’t mad for what he had done. While she slept, the blue lines had receded from her face and neck leaving the slight tan she had had before this whole mess had started. Although, that, too, would fade with time. She would be like him, destined to hide from the sun.  
  
Wanting to see if her body had begun to heal, Spike moved the sheet and her shirt out of the way, exposing her midriff. Breathed a sigh of relief when no sign of the wound was visible on her body. He ran his hand lightly over where the scar used to be then leaned down to place a light kiss on the spot. A soft moan had him lifting his head.  
  
Buffy’s eyelids started to flutter before finally opening. The first thing she saw as her vision cleared was Spike.  
  
“Spike? What happened?” she asked softly, confused.   
  
“We… I fixed you,” Spike stated, as he moved up to lay beside her, wrapped his arms around her in a gentle hug. They lay there on their sides facing each other.  
  
“Fixed me? How?”  
  
“How? You don’t remember?” he asked, stalling.  
  
Images of... before... flashed in her mind.  
  
_Cold._  
  
Dying.  
  
Wanting Spike. Finding him there, holding her.  
  
Teeth piercing her neck, not hurting. Comforted. Protected.  
  
Positions reversing. The blood.  
  
Blackness.  
  
Spike watched the emotions play across her face as she remembered what happened to her. He saw the exact moment she realized what he had done. And, he waited. Waited for her rage, her disgust, at his betrayal. Because of what he had done, he’d denied her entrance back into heaven.  
  
It never came.  
  
She looked up at him with wonder in her eyes. Slowly, she reached out one hand and ran in down his sculpted cheekbone then gently cupped his chin. Ran her thumb over his closed lips. The soft caress had him trembling and he closed his eyes against the sensation.  
  
“Forever,” she whispered, understanding.  
  
His eyes flew open at her softly spoken words. His blue eyes looked into hers, penetrating deep, searching for any hint that she might hate him. He saw nothing, no revulsion, just... love. He cupped her face with both hands, repeating her whispered promise, “Forever.” Then he pulled her close and kissed her, sealing their vow.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
The kiss was carnal, wanton. Both knew what the other liked and weren’t shy about giving it or demanding it. Their tongues dueled. Each reacquainted themselves with the other’s tastes and textures. Spike broke the kiss momentarily to whip the shirt over her head, leaving Buffy’s bare body exposed to his gaze. Then he claimed her mouth once more, his tongue demanding entrance, which was immediately given. When Spike tasted blood, he groaned, delighting in her taste. Deepened the kiss to get even more. His eyes flew wide when he realized what she had done. Buffy – his Childe – had nicked herself with her fangs, allowing him to taste her.  
  
Realizing that she’d yet to have her first meal, he tore his mouth away from hers. Groaning at the loss, Buffy opened her eyes and looked at him.  
  
“What’s wrong, Spike?” she questioned provocatively. It had been so long since they had been together like this and Buffy was trying to make up for lost time.  
  
“You need to feed first, love. You’re very weak, though you may not realize it.” She wrinkled her nose at that. Feed. That was sure going to take some getting used to. Then, she started to panic. Feed. Blood. People. Seeing where her thoughts were going, he quickly rushed to reassure her.  
  
“From me, pet, from me,” he whispered, twisting to pull her naked body on top of him, guiding her to his neck. Sliding one hand into his hair, Buffy gently tugged his head to the side. Instinctively, she found his jugular; her fangs poised above it, just breaking the skin. “Go on, love,” he whispered. “Drink me… aaaahhhh—” he broke off as her fangs struck deep and she began to suck at his neck. “That’s it, baby. Taste me. Feel me.” God, he had forgotten what this felt like. The connection. The belonging. The arousal. His nostrils flared. He could smell it coming off her, just as he was sure she could smell it on him. Growling, he pulled her closer, aligning her body with his.  
  
Buffy exalted in the taste of him. Spike wasn’t kidding. It was all about the blood. And she couldn’t get enough of him. Of it. Her Spike, now her Sire. She continued to pull deep mouthfuls before swallowing, moaning at the taste as it slid down her throat. Allowed it to fill her up, revitalizing her. It was driving her crazy. The throbbing in her womb told her that she needed him inside her. Sliding in and out as she drank, connecting in a way only they could. Now. As vampires.  
  
He had to be inside her. Needed to be inside her. Sex and blood – they went hand in hand. He rolled over, pinning her beneath him, as she continued to feed. Poised himself at her entrance, then pushed his way home with one smooth thrust. Her inner walls clamped around him like a steel vise, squeezing him for all he was worth. He stilled within her, letting her adjust to his invasion. She’d yet to fully finish feeding and he wanted her strong. 

But Buffy had other ideas and released Spike’s neck, instinctively licking the wounds closed as she did so. She could finish feeding later. Right now, she wanted him, pounding into her for all he was worth. 

Spike groaned.  
  
“Buffy…aaahhh…” She was trying to shift underneath him, urging him to move. “Love… please…” Another moan. “You gotta finish feeding…” His voice trailed off.  
  
“Later. I need you now,” she whispered in his ear, her tongue darting out to trace along the shell. “Please, Spike,” she begged as she wrapped her legs around his lower back, moving her arms up to his shoulders before dragging her nails down his back deep enough to leave scratches.  
  
Spike growled low in his throat. So much for the foreplay he had planned. He just prayed that she was as close to the edge as he. 

He reached down and grabbed her ass trying to bring her even closer. Then he began to thrust. Only, this was no tame lovemaking. It was feral, mating at its most elemental. Spike pounded into her almost brutally, over and over. Claiming her. Possessing her. And Buffy didn’t care. She gloried in it. His taking. Her nerve endings were tingling. She was ready to launch herself into the abyss and fly. So close now.  
  
Spike could sense that she was ready. He gripped the hair at the back of her neck and tugged her head to the side exposing his mark. His face shifted and he lowered his head. When his fangs penetrated her neck and he pulled her blood into his mouth, the sensation shot straight to her core and there was no holding back. A growl was torn from her throat as she flew headlong into orgasm. Her inner walls squeezed him, coaxing him to join her. Wanting her lover with her, Buffy bit into Spike’s chest. The taste of him... she couldn’t get enough.  
  
Her fangs were his undoing. His orgasm crashed over him, and he tore his mouth from her neck gasping her name. With something akin to regret, Buffy stopped feeding and licked lovingly at the marks. Knowing he was probably crushing her, Spike pulled out and settled onto his back, bringing Buffy to lie along side him. Sated, they both lay there, cradled in each other’s arms.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Downstairs, Angel could hear the two lovers yet tried to ignore them. And the blood, dear God! He could smell it, practically taste it. It was family. And even though she was Spike’s, Buffy was now tied to him. The House of Aurelius now had a slayer among its ranks. And not just any slayer. A Guardian Slayer, much like the First Slayer.  
  
He had the rest of the members of the house, along with Fred, Wesley, and Giles, gathered in the living room: 1) because he knew what it was like when a fledgling first arose and 2) because what he needed to say involved them all. Well, _would_ involve them all. Now was as good a time as any to start preparing to deal with the demons of the Draemuir dimension and getting that portal closed... permanently. Ignoring the moans and smell of blood wafting down from the second level, Angel launched into the reason for this meeting.  
  
“As you know – well, most of you anyway – Buffy was attacked by a demon from the Draemuir dimension. His goal was to end the slayer line by killing her, which would release her soul from this plane. Giles, maybe you can explain the whys a little easier?”  
  
“Right, of course. As Angel was saying, this demon knew how to render all of you obsolete, which would leave Faith as the only slayer. And, what he knew, and we eventually found out, was that Buffy was the key to all of you simultaneously being called. It had something to do with the scythe recognizing her as its owner when the spell was done. So, if she were to die…” He paused to remove his glasses for a thorough cleaning. “If she were to die, each of your slayer abilities would be gone.”  
  
Sensing that Rupert was starting to get choked up, Wesley stood up and continued. “As near as we’ve been able to determine, the Draemuir demons are looking to expand their reign. But, with the multitude of slayers now populating the Earth, it’s not feasible for them. That’s why they probably concocted this plan.”  
  
“Which leads us back to why,” Angel continued. “Using the extensive resources at Wolfram  & Hart, I’ve been able to find out that the Draemuir demons roamed the Earth but were banished by rival demon clans almost two thousand years ago. Apparently, there was some type of loophole in the spell that allows them to attempt a return every two thousand years. And, that deadline is a little over a week away – on the day of the full moon of the eleventh month. Translation, next Thursday.”  
  
“But, that’s Thanksgiving!” Willow shouted, then blushed, embarrassed by her outburst.  
  
“I don’t think the demons had that in mind when they planned this, Willow,” Giles stated deadpan. Everyone in the room looked at him for a minute and then they all burst out laughing. Well, everyone, that is, except Angel. His normally brooding face softened for a moment, before evening out once more.  
  
“What?” Sweeping the room with disdainful eyes, Giles fixed each occupant with a glare usually reserved for uncouth hoodlums. Yet, they continued to laugh.  
  
“Oh dear Lord, what is so bloody funny?” he asked in his most exasperated, put upon, longsuffering, why-the-hell-am-I-stuck-here-with-all-these-juveniles voice. That just sent the room into a second round of laughter. Even Angel chuckled this time.  
  
Realizing that no more discussion was to be had regarding the upcoming confrontation next week, Giles stiffly excused himself from the group, retreating to the office to see if he could formulate some type of plan for next Thursday. Angel had followed him, retreating to a corner, a pad of paper and pencil in his hand. Fred and Wesley joined them after a bit, while the girls curled up in front of the TV to watch movies. No one wanted to venture upstairs and chance hearing the faint sounds coming from above.


	30. Chapter 30

“Do you hate me?”  
  
They weren’t the first words Buffy expected to hear while lying beside Spike in post-coital bliss. Actually, she wouldn’t have rated them in the top ten. She could hear the underlying apprehension in his voice, and for the life of her, couldn’t figure out why. It was instinctive, her need to ease the distress she heard in his voice; she just wasn’t sure how. This, her new life, her being a vampire, was all so new to her. Questions, so many questions she had, many of which, she doubted anyone would have the answer to. 

For now, though, she pushed the thoughts aside and concentrated on Spike.  
  
“Hate you? No, I don’t hate you, Spike. Why would I?”  
  
Spike placed his hand beneath her chin and tilted her head up so that he could look into her eyes. Seeing the love reflected in their hazel depths had him releasing an unnecessary breath. Grateful, he let his eyes close as his forehead came to rest on hers.  
  
“I was so sure you would. I kept you…” He broke off; flashbacks of her conversation about being pulled out of heaven came back to haunt him. “I kept you out of heaven. Giles said–” He was starting to get worked up.  
  
“Shhhh…” she tried to soothe him, holding him tighter. Her face rested on his neck and she nuzzled her bite marks from earlier in an attempt to calm him. “It’s okay, Spike. Not exactly what I was expecting. But–”  
  
“What do you mean, not what you were expecting? You were expecting something? Why the bloody hell didn’t you tell me?” He was getting upset all over again.  
  
“It’s not like I had a chance to tell you–”  
  
“The slayer dream. Giles mentioned your slayer dream.”  
  
“Spike, would you shut up and let me finish,” she said, exasperation clearly evident in her voice. Spike didn’t take too kindly to her tone of voice if his growl was any indication.  
  
“Sorry,” Buffy said, backing off instinctively at that warning rumble.  
  
“No, I’m sorry, pet. Old habits are hard to break, I guess,” he said with a sigh. “So, this slayer dream. It’s what told you that something was going to happen?”  
  
“Yeah. Kinda. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to tell you. I knew something was going to happen, just not what, exactly. I was going to tell you about it. Honest. I just... ran out of time.” Just the memory of her pre-death condition had Spike tightening his hold once more.  
  
“Anyway... in my dream, I saw the First Slayer. Only, not like before. Well, the first time, yeah, she was all wild woman and cryptic. And before you even interrupt me again, I had two slayer dreams. So… anyway. I’m in this cave and I see her. Only she’s gorgeous. Beautiful clothes. Nice turban. Smooth complexion. I never knew what the white and black paint hid.” Buffy could sense his annoyance at her digression, and she rushed on with her explanation. “So she sits down, calm as you please, and tells me that she’s preparing for her funeral and that a new guardian was coming. Me. Because, like, I haven’t done enough, mind you. And, it’s because of the spell from before. You know, the one I had done with the scythe?”  
  
“I remember.”  
  
“Yeah, and well. I guess the scythe recognized me as its owner and when the spell was cast, part of my essence was passed on to the other potentials. So I’m tied to them and they to me. I just didn’t figure on this whole immortal thing. I mean, I knew I was going to die–”  
  
“What do you mean you knew you were going to die?!” he roared. His surprise making him yell a little louder than he would have liked.  
  
“Geeez. Loud much?” Buffy tried for some levity. His pointed stare told her that it didn’t work. She gave a long-suffering sigh, her human traits not completely worn off.  
  
“That would have been the slayer dream. It’s weird, actually. It was the same one I had before the battle with Glory. Scared me to death. Uh, sorry.”  
  
Spike just grunted.  
  
“So, I have this dream. I freaked. But after the second one I knew. It was going to be okay. Only, I figured that I’d be more like the First Slayer, you know. Coming in dreams, and such. I didn’t realize that I’d actually be undead. So, to get back to your question...”  
  
Lost in her explanation, Spike had completely forgotten his initial question. He looked at her, confusion marring his features.  
  
“Hating you…”  
  
“Ahhhh, right.”  
  
“I can’t hate you. You’ve made it possible for me to stay. I can see Dawn grow up, get married, have some kids. True, I may not be able to take them to the beach, or the park, or pick them up from school. But I can hold them, and watch them grow, be here. Not just some wisp of energy, or whatever the First Slayer was.” True, she may have not wanted to become a vampire or whatever hybrid thing she was now, but it was a small price to pay for getting to stay. Plus, she wouldn’t be alone in her immortality. She’d have Spike with her.  
  
“Buffy...“ Spike whispered. So overcome with emotion, he could only say her name. Pulling her close, he nuzzled his mark. Heaven. It felt like he had been given a glimpse of Heaven. Strange coming from a demon who had no hope of reaching that destination, but that was okay. Heaven was here on earth, Buffy by his side. An immortal, like him. He couldn’t ask for anything more. He saw her eyes flash yellow and realized that she hadn’t had a proper meal. He was surprised that her demon hadn’t made its displeasure known before now. Although on the other hand, it knew better than to demand anything of its Sire. Time to rectify that.  
  
Spike pulled away from Buffy and got out of bed and walked to the cooler he had brought in earlier. In a matter of minutes, he had several bags of blood consumed and returned to the bed and settled with his back against the headboard. He grabbed Buffy’s hand and tugged, silently gesturing her to straddle his hips. He tilted his neck to the side, invitingly. “Time to finish feeding, love.” 

Buffy needed no further urging, quickly shifting her facial features then sinking her fangs back into Spike’s neck. As her Sire’s blood slid down her throat, she practically purred at the taste. Greedily, she fed from him, taking long pulls of his intoxicating blood. The sweet ambrosia quickly overcoming any qualms about feeding in the first place.  
  
Spike leaned his head back against the headboard, eyes closed, while Buffy fed. He ignored his raging hard-on and just basked in the feel of his Childe feeding from him. He let her take as much as she wanted, wanting her to be strong. With the new role she had, she was going to need the strength. All those slayers, now dependent on her. When she was finally done, she removed her fangs from his neck licking the fresh marks closed. She curled up against him and sighed in contentment. She was just about to drift off to sleep when she realized something. She bolted upright and looked at him, horror evident on her face.  
  
“My soul! I don’t have a soul!” she wailed.


	31. Chapter 31

_“My soul! I don’t have a soul!” she wailed._  
  
Spike tried to pull Buffy back to him so that he could calm her down, but she was having none of that. Just scrambled out of his arms, tears flowing down her face and she dashed off towards the bathroom. He ran after her, but she beat him there; the door shut and locked before he could stop her. He could have easily broken in, was half tempted to, but something held him back. What, he wasn’t quite sure. Maybe the subconscious guilt he was still feeling for having made her what she was in the first place. Instead, he put his hand flat against the door, as if somehow, he could reach through the wall that was between them and touch her.  
  
Sighing, he put his back to the door and slid slowly to the floor, leaning his head back against to rest against the wooden surface. Her anguished sobs tore at his unbeating heart. He needed to comfort her. He was her Sire, dammit. And if she would have him, her Mate, as well. He was _supposed_ to take care of her. Very hard to do with a locked door between them.  
  
“Buffy, please, love. Stop crying,” He banged his head softly against the door, tormented as he listened to her weep. “Please stop…” he mumbled brokenly, her tears a torture worse than anything Angelus had ever inflict upon him. She continued to cry, oblivious to his pleas.  
  
“You have your soul, baby. It never left this room,” he finally whispered some time later. Her crying abruptly stopped as she got wind of his barely uttered words, and he fell backwards as the bathroom door was practically yanked off the hinges inward.  
  
“Really?” she asked in a small child like voice, looking down upon his sprawled body on the bathroom floor.  
  
“Yes, love,” he replied as he looked up at her. Her smile was blinding. She was so happy that Spike just smiled back at her, grateful she was no longer crying.   
  
Squealing, she launched herself at him, eliciting a grunt from Spike as her naked body landed on top of his own. Buffy began placing quick pecks all over his face and neck, grateful at the good news.  
  
“Buffy...pet...” Spike tried to get out. “Floor... hard... go… bed.” 

Buffy took advantage of his open mouth and slipped her tongue inside to tangle with his. Her playfulness gave way as passion flared from their heated kisses. 

It was a while before Buffy remembered what had her upset in the first place.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
“I really have my soul,” Buffy asked in a child-like voice a while later.  
  
“Tell me... do you feel like eating Dawn, or Giles, or Willow? They’re all downstairs completely vulnerable. You could have them drained before they knew it.”  
  
“Ewwwww...Spike,” she said as she leaned up off his chest to look down at him. “Gross.”  
  
“Well... you asked, pet. Do you think if you didn’t have a soul you would care? Shoot, they’d probably be your first meal.”  
  
“But, how? Did Willow do that spell with that orb thingy? What’s it called?” Then another realization dawned on her. “Oh God, do I have one of those happiness clauses. No wait. I can’t.” Spike quirked his brow at her as she rambled on. He apparently didn’t need to participate in this conversation; she was doing just fine by herself. Then she paused.  
  
“Can’t what, kitten?”  
  
“I can’t have a happiness clause, silly.”  
  
“Well, of course you don’t.”  
  
“Smug much?” she asked, doing a good Spike imitation of the raised eyebrow.  
  
“Huh?” Somewhere along the line he had lost the thread of the conversation.  
  
“The happiness clause. I obviously don’t have one of those, or I would have lost my soul already.” The light bulb went off in his head and Spike realized what Buffy was referring to. A smile lit up his face producing an answering smile on Buffy’s. He had made her happy. A moment of pure happiness. He leaned up off the cold floor to give Buffy a hug, practically breaking her ribs in his enthusiasm.  
  
“Thanks, love. Although, that’s not exactly what I was referring to. Your soul never left this room. Shoot, probably didn’t even stray too far from your body. And, Willow’s magic had nothing to do with it.”  
  
Now it was her turn to say, “Huh?”  
  
“Maybe Giles can explain it better. And, although I had planned on keeping you locked up in here for the better part of a week, I think the others would like to see you.”  
  
“A week! And they... and we...” she broke off. If it were possible, her entire body would be beet red from embarrassment right now. Her mortification wore off, quickly giving way to anxiety. She didn’t mind what she had become, but she had no idea how the others were going to react. She threw her arms around him, pulling him tightly to her. She was scared and needed him to reassure her.  
  
“They’re gonna hate me, aren’t they?” She hated the quavering note to her voice, but she couldn’t remember a time when she was more nervous to see her friends and family.  
  
“Oh, no, pet. They’re not gonna hate you. They love you. Now, me on the other hand...”  
  
She pushed back a little so that she could see his face. He gave her his trademark smirk, designed to fool all that he didn’t care. But Buffy had heard the resignation in his tone. She didn’t know what to say. Her friends had never really cared for Spike. Even after he had saved them all, he was still a sore subject between them. This time around, however, things were going to be different. If her friends couldn’t accept Spike, then they would have to go. It was time that he came first for a change. She gave him a quick kiss then stood up.  
  
“Shower first. Then we can go see Giles.” She reached her hand down to help him up. He wiggled his eyebrows at her.  
  
“Shower only, Spike.”  
  
“Whatever you say, pet.”  
  
Needless to say, showering wasn’t the only thing they did, and it was over an hour later before they finally made their way downstairs.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
The closer they got to the office, the more sounds Buffy could make out. Three heartbeats. Rustling papers. Low murmurs between Fred and Wesley. A pencil scratching back and forth across a piece of paper before it suddenly stopped. Angel. She could feel him. She was starting to get nervous and she slipped her hand into her Sire’s seeking his reassuring touch. He gave her a quick squeeze as he laced his fingers through hers.  
  
Spike used his free hand to open the office door before Buffy could change her mind. With his other hand still clasped in hers, he gave a quick tug and pulled her into the office. He shut the door behind them, blocking her means of escape and getting the attention of the other occupants in the room. Everyone, that is, except Angel; he had sensed them outside and already had his eyes trained on the door. Spike released her hand and leaned back against the door with his arms crossed over his chest; Buffy stood about a foot in front of him staring at Giles. With her back to him, Buffy wasn’t able to see the glare he directed at everyone – daring them to hurt her feelings.  
  
Giles bounded to his feet when he realized who had stepped into the office. He whipped his glasses off his face, getting ready to wipe them clean as was his nervous habit. With a shake of his head, he tossed them on the desk. He glanced at Spike before rolling his eyes at the vampire’s rude glare; Spike just quirked his scarred eyebrow in return. But Spike was dead serious; he’d flay anyone alive that hurt his girl’s feelings.  
  
Giles made his way around the front of his desk to stand before Buffy. His miracle slayer. Her outward appearance had changed a little. She was a bit paler than before. Although, compared to the last few days, her appearance was a major improvement. Plus there was the whole lack of breathing thing that took some getting used to. But as he pulled her to him for a hug, he knew that is was still the same Buffy on the inside. Even if she was now somewhat cool to the touch.  
  
Buffy was nervous as she felt four pair of eyes on her as Spike pushed her in front of him. She’d have to remember to have a word with him about that. When she looked at her former Watcher and could see nothing but awe and acceptance, she finally began to relax. He embraced her, and she released the completely unnecessary breath that she had been holding. Apparently, Spike had been right, though she’d never tell _him_ that.  
  
After a time, Giles stepped back and held Buffy at arm’s length. She visibly sensed him going into “Watcher” mode and was grateful. Maybe now she could find out what the hell was going on. Giles walked back around behind the desk, gesturing for Buffy to take one of the seats facing the desk. He grabbed his glasses from the desk and settled them back on his nose. Spike, seeing Buffy move to sit at one of the two chairs in front of the desk, realized that she wasn’t going to bolt. Pushing himself away from the door, he crossed the room to where Buffy was sitting. She made no protest as he pulled her up out of the seat so that he could sit down and resettle her on his lap.   
  
Buffy was actually grateful for Spike’s seeming highhandedness. Her lingering anxiety hadn’t abated, and she needed him near. His touch calmed her. Somehow, instinctively, he seemed to know that. And by his Big Bad posturing, he was able to provide what she needed without making her appear weak before the others by asking for it. Sighing, she leaned back into his chest as his arms came around her waist to hold her in place.  
  
“So, Giles, you want to tell me what in the world is going on?” Buffy asked in her usual, take-charge manner.


	32. Chapter 32

Spike cast a broad grin the watcher’s way, grateful that he was the one that would be explaining things to Buffy.  
  
“Er, yes, well…” Giles stuttered. He was still somewhat in shock at seeing Buffy before him. Oh he knew that she was undead – well, he guessed she was anyway, with the whole lack of breathing and the pale skin – but, he wasn’t quite sure _what_ she was really. That snippet of prophecy had alluded to two demons inhabiting her body. He could only assume one was the demon that helped make the First Slayer, while the other was the vampire demon.  
  
“Quite frankly, we’re trying to figure this out as we go, Buffy,” he replied to her question. “We do know a little bit about your would-be assassin.” Spike cocked an eyebrow at that; in his mind there was no ‘would-be’ about it. Giles ignored him and pressed on, telling Buffy about what the demon had hoped to accomplish and why. He went on to explain that the Draemuir demons were apparently trying to re-enter Earth’s dimension and that the event was supposed to take place next week.  
  
“We have to assume that they’re going to attempt to re-enter through the portal. They have no way of knowing that their attack was unsuccessful and that the slayer line is secure. That all of them are still here. We’ve got a little time yet to do research to see how we can get the portal closed preventing them from entering our dimension for another two thousand years. Angel has given us some information to get us started…” he trailed off.  
“So, this thing tried to kill me because it knew I’m somehow linked to the other slayers now?”  
  
“Exactly. Killing you would wipe their slayer strength away – possibly worse – and would leave just Faith to handle the influx of demons. Much better odds for them than currently stands right now.” Buff nodded at this. She was starting to get sleepy again, her strength having not returned completely. With a muffled yawn, she leaned her head into the crook of Spike’s shoulder.  
  
“Okay, so that tells me why that demon went after me. Have you got any info on why I’m still here? And, apparently with my soul intact with no mojo from Willow.”  
  
Giles was somewhat shocked at her calm acceptance of being a vampire. He knew that she had desperately loathed the idea that the creatures she had been duty-bound to stake may one day turn her. It was one of the risks she ran being a slayer. He wasn’t quite sure, but she seemed almost happy – certainly happier than she’d been since being called as the Chosen One. Maybe that second slayer dream she had had mentally prepared her for her new role she was now destined to lead.  
  
Clearing his throat, he attempted to answer her. “Ummm… exactly why, er no, I don’t.” At her confused look, he struggled to continue. “See, all I… _we_ …had to go by was the prophecy delivered to Wesley and the subsequent one I found while researching the translation to the original.” Quickly he read both to her. “So, you see, according to the prophecy, you were never in danger of losing your soul. And I have to say, the sight I beheld earlier was nothing short of a miracle.” The other occupants of the room murmured their assent. Just thinking about Buffy as she lay in bed glowing had Giles starting to tear up, his awe clearly evident. “We…uh…just weren’t sure exactly how that was going to be accomplished,” he pushed on, trying to get back on track.  
  
“We’re still not sure exactly _what_ you are, Buffy. We do know that you are possessed of not one, but two demons. The rest…” he shrugged his shoulders, his voice trailing off. “We can only hope to learn as we go. We’ll need your help for that. Spike’s as well. Even Angel can assist us, put in his “two cents”. Anything that feels off, any sensation you don’t recognize as normal, you need to let someone know. We have no way of knowing exactly what may happen. I’m sorry about that, Buffy.”  
  
“That’s alright, Giles,” she said, yawning into Spike’s neck. Seeing how tired Buffy was, Spike stood with Buffy in his arms, putting an end to the conversation. She needed her rest if she was to regain her strength. The only reason he came down here in the first place with her was to ease her mind about her soul, to try and give her some answers. Now it was time to head back to the room for some more blood and then rest.  
  
“Right then, we’re off. Someone needs her rest. How ‘bout we meet back down here later so we can discuss what to do about those Draemuir demons. Sound like a plan, Giles?” Giles nodded, his thumb and forefinger rubbing back and forth over his eyes wearily.  
  
Noticing this, Spike added, “Besides, when was the last time you guys slept? No offense, but you all look like the walking dead. ‘Cept Angel, of course, since he already is.” With a grin tossed Angel’s way, he walked towards the office door. The others soon followed in his wake, exhaustion clearly evident as they rose from their chairs. When they heard Spike’s voice raised in concern, a burst of adrenaline had them all rushing to the door to find out what was wrong.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
“You can put me down, you know. I am capable of walking,” she muttered to Spike, once they were outside the office.  
  
“I like holdin’ ya, pet,” he replied with a wink. She just settled back in his arms, getting comfortable, figuring it was useless to argue. As he made his way across the foyer Buffy suddenly stiffened in his arms. She could feel her body start to tingle, and unbeknownst to her, her eyes flashed yellow. Before he could stop her, she scrambled out of Spike’s arms and rushed off towards the living room. Spike took off after her.  
  
“What is it, pet?” he hollered as he ran after her. She didn’t hear him, intent on getting to the living room as quickly as possible. When she reached the entryway, she pulled up short, scanning the sleeping occupants for signs of trouble. Dawn and Willow were stretched out on the couch, their heads at opposite ends, fast asleep. The ten young slayers were scattered haphazardly on the floor, buried in sleeping bags or under quilts. On her first pass, Buffy noticed nothing amiss. Then she heard it – a soft moan coming from Angelina. Her yellow-tinged gaze zeroed in on the girl, and she quickly made her way over to her.  
  
Spike had managed to catch up to Buffy just as she stopped in the entryway of the living room. He watched as her gaze scanned the occupants of the room before honing in on one of the young slayers. He felt Angel and the others rushing up behind him and he raised his hand in the air to keep them out of the room. They all watched in silence as Buffy knelt down by the girl, her hand hovering above the girl’s head. She was obviously having a dream, and a bad one at that, if her facial features were any indication. Then they noticed as Buffy ran her hand over the girl’s hair, pushing it off her face; she used her other hand to cradle one of Angelina’s hands in hers. Buffy’s eyes closed as if she were concentrating deeply and the others watched amazed as the girl ceased her struggles, her dream apparently no longer affecting her. Buffy ran her hand through the girl’s hair one more time then slowly released the hand she had been holding, placing it gently by the girl’s side. Her eyes opened and she stood up to meet the gaze of Spike, Angel, Giles, Wesley, and Fred. Concern was evident on all their faces.  
  
“Uh… she was having a slayer dream,” she spoke softly to the others, trying not to wake the girls as she attempted to explain.  
  
Giles was about to comment, but Buffy shook her head at him, signaling for him to wait until they had left the room. No need to wake the girls up with their conversation.  
  
“How did you know?” Giles asked as they made their way back into the foyer.  
  
“I’m not sure exactly. All of a sudden I just started really tingling, and just…ya’ know…knew. I can feel them all in there, actually. More so, Angelina, because she was, um, distressed?”  
  
“Interesting… wait, you said you could feel them?” Giles questioned. “All of them?”  
  
“Uh huh.” She wasn’t sure if she should mention that there were vague feelings of other slayers scattered throughout Rome. Maybe later, once she got used to it. She had ignored that subconscious tingling she had been feeling, thinking it was somehow related to the vampire demon now inhabiting her body realizing that slayers were about. But, the more she thought about it; she realized it was the slayer demon that was feeling the connection to the other slayers.  
  
Giles looked like he wanted to rush back to the office to get his Watcher’s diary so he could record the moment for posterity. _‘Talk about feeling like a_ freak,’ Buffy thought. Nervous with everyone staring at her, she looked frantically from one to the other. The others weren’t looking at her like she was a freak, however, which was somewhat comforting. Sure, they were curious, but not to the point where they’d want to stick her under a microscope and study her. Thoughts of the Initiative flitted briefly through her mind before she brushed them aside. She’d like to see them even try to get their hands on her. The evil grin that came suddenly to her face had the others looking at her questioningly. She bit her bottom lip to hide her smile, but her eyes still gleamed. She caught Spike’s stare and gave him a slight shake of her head. She’d tell him what she was thinking about once they were back in their room.  
  
The newness of her recently arisen status was starting to take its toll on her body and she let out a huge, fanged yawn. Both Spike and Angel watched her amused. Spike thought she looked like a sated lioness. Telling the others to get some sleep and that they would meet back downstairs in a few hours, Spike ushered Buffy upstairs to bed.


	33. Chapter 33

Since Spike’s idea of keeping Buffy locked up for a week in her bedroom had backfired, there was no point in keeping the cooler in the bedroom to hold their blood. So, while Buffy lingered in the shower, Spike got out, threw on some clothes, and grabbed the cooler to take back downstairs.  
  
He walked into the kitchen, the cooler held before him, and stopped dead in his tracks. He knew she was in there, debated on turning around, but figured now was as good a time as any to get this over with. Resuming his path to the refrigerator, he glanced at Dawn while she sat at the table sipping her coffee. Her head was down, refusing to acknowledge his presence. It hurt, her rejection of him. Hanging his head, he set the cooler on the floor. It took hardly any time at all, returning all the blood to the freezer, the sound of blood bags smacking against one other as they landed on the shelf was the only thing that broke the tension-filled silence of the room.  
  
Once all the bags were in the freezer, Spike shut the door. He could hear Dawn’s heartbeat pounding in her chest. Knew that she was aware of him being there. Then he smelt it, that slight tinge of fear. And rather than dumping the ice out of the cooler like he planned, he turned and strode swiftly from the room. Her hate he could deal with, her fear was something else. Disgust at himself had his soul practically weeping at the pain he had caused her, and Spike needed to get as far away from Dawn as possible to lick his wounds. By saving one sister, he had lost the other.  
  
Dawn knew that refusing to acknowledge Spike’s presence as he came into the kitchen probably hurt him. She just didn’t know quite what to feel right now. On the one hand she was thankful. Her sister was alive, well undead she guessed was the correct term now, because of Spike. And if someone had to do it, she was glad that it had been Spike. Where the confusion came from was where that left her. Buffy now had this guardian status, and Dawn just didn’t know where she was going to fit in anymore. If she was going to be left alone. That thought had her quaking with fear. When she saw Spike practically run from the kitchen, she knew she had to talk to him. He would listen to her, help her deal with all these feelings she was having. That decision made, she leapt up from the table and started after him.  
  
Spike was lost in his own haze of pain at Dawn’s rejection and didn’t hear as Dawn came rushing up behind him.  
  
“Spike…” Dawn choked out. Tears were rushing down her face as she raced after him. He didn’t acknowledge her, just kept on walking towards the living room. “Spike…” she called his name louder.  
  
Her voice finally broke through his tormented thoughts. He heard his name called, then Dawn crying. He jerked around in astonishment to see her flying towards him. Then she was in his arms, apologies mixed with incoherent babbling.   
  
“Awww.. ‘Bit. Don’t...” Spike attempted to soothe her. At some point, he got her into the living room and settled on the couch next to him.   
  
Eventually, her fervent sobbing lessened then finally abated. The words when they came, astonished Spike so much that he could barely get out a denial. It was the last thing he expected to hear. That he’d, _they’d_ , leave her? _Ridiculous!_   
“Oh Niblet, of course not. Your sister’s not going anywhere and neither am I,” he vowed. “Whatever gave you that idea?”   
  
“It just…now she’s a vampire, guardian, whatever…she’s gonna go away, be like that First Slayer, live in some cave or something,” she knew it sounded ridiculous as the words came tumbling out of her mouth, but she rushed on. “And you’re like, her Sire now, right? So, that means you’re gonna go with her, wherever she goes and I’m gonna be all alone again.”  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
_“…her Sire now, right? So, that means you’re gonna go with her, wherever she goes and I’m gonna be all alone again.”_ The forlorn words were easily heard by Buffy as she made her way down the stairs. She came to an abrupt stop when she saw Spike sitting on the couch, Dawn curled up next to his side as he attempted to soothe her fears. He looked up, his helpless gaze locking with her own. He shrugged his shoulders slightly as if to say, “I can’t even begin to figure out where she came up with this idea.”  
  
“Dawnie?” Buffy called out. Dawn’s head snapped up off Spike’s shoulder. Scrambling off the couch, she practically ran into her waiting sister’s arms.  
  
“Shhh…. It’s ok, Dawnie,” Buffy soothed. “What made you think I was going somewhere? You know I’d never leave you, right?” Dawn just held on tighter letting her sister’s words slowly sink in.  
  
“Why don’t we go sit down?” Dawn nodded against Buffy’s shoulder, then pulled away, allowing herself to be led back to the couch. The two sisters curled up side-by-side, their arms wrapped around one another. Dawn’s words tripped over themselves as they tumbled from her lips. “You were dying… and Spike… so scared… didn’t want to be alone again… didn’t want you to die… pretty glow…” Throughout it all, Buffy just held her sister close. Finally, Dawn wound down and they just sat there.  
  
“’Bit, we’re family,” Spike said. “And families stick together no matter what. “Doesn’t matter that Buffy is now this Guardian slayer or some such. She’s still your sister first. Got that?”  
  
Buffy looked over her sister’s head to stare at Spike, her eyes conveying without words how grateful she was for him being here, explaining things, reassuring Dawn. Spike just smiled back at her. He broke off eye contact and looked towards the entryway, Buffy’s gaze following his own. Willow. She was coming towards them. Spike stood up so that Red wouldn’t think she was intruding on a private moment and went back to his chair and plopped down. Buffy eased Dawn up off her shoulder, brushing her hair out of her face and wiping away her tears as she did so. She leaned over and gave her sister a quick kiss on the cheek and a slight smile. She made quick work of wiping away her own tears, then turned towards the entryway once more as Willow came into view.  
  
Both friends shared at one another in shock. It had been a long while since they had seen one another, discounting their brief goodbye earlier. There had been that brief moment when Willow visited Rome to add the protection spell to her home. Prior to that, it had been since Buffy and Dawn had left on their summer holiday tour of Europe. The awkward silence continued as Buffy stood up next to the couch. In her anxiety, Buffy’s eyes momentarily flashed yellow, causing Willow to gasp in surprise. Thinking Willow couldn’t accept what she had now become, her face fell and she looked away, instinctively seeking the comforting gaze of her sire.  
  
Spike surged to his feet with a growl, concern for Buffy had him snapping, “Bloody hell, Red, if this is the way you’re gonna react around Buffy, you may as well leave now!” He quickly reached the Slayer, pulling her into his arms as he glared at Willow.   
  
Shock, then horror, as Willow realized what she had inadvertently done.  
  
“Oh, no… Buffy…I didn’t mean…” she stammered. She hurried into the room and stopped just shy of the couch, hesitating. 

Spike, seeing the apologetic look on Red’s face, disentangled Buffy arms from around him and turned her around to face her friend.  
  
“Buffy…” Willow began, but was cut off.  
  
“Look at me,” Buffy snapped as her face shifted. Anger and hurt made her voice particularly harsh. “Look at my face. This is what I am now. What I’ll always be. If you can’t deal with that then maybe you shouldn’t be here.” She broke off then, continued in a smaller voice, “I just can’t deal with the thought that what I am now might disgust you. Better for you to go before my feelings get hurt any more than they already are.”  
  
“Oh, Buffy… I’m sorry. I’m not disgusted. Honest.” Slowly, Willow walked towards her friend, stopping once she was standing directly in front of her. Her hand reached out hesitantly to trace the ridges on her brow. Buffy watched her friend’s eyes carefully, waiting. What she saw was acceptance, and she breathed an unnecessary sigh of relief. Reassured, she shook off the demonic features, her human mask once more settling into place. 

Spike snorted and shifted to the chair, leaving the three girls to settle on the couch – Buffy situated between Willow and Dawn. He half listened as the girls chatted amongst themselves, catching up on old gossip and his ears perked when he heard Buffy ask about Xander. Willow, however, shook her head and said that she hadn’t seen him since they had split company at the beginning of the summer and had only talked to him via email. Buffy sighed at that and nodded. They shook off their morose thoughts and turned their conversation to lighter subjects.  
  
After a while, Spike sensed the other slayers coming down the stairs, slowly making their way towards the living room. He briefly noticed Buffy’s eyes flash yellow but thought nothing of it. When her human mask briefly slipped from her face, his casual pose in the chair abruptly faded. Sitting on the edge of the chair, he continued to watch Buffy. Both Dawn and Willow had noticed the slight change come over her features but thought nothing of it. Then the other slayers arrived at the room and made their way inside.  
  
Spike broke through the growl that suddenly emanated from Buffy, slightly startling both Dawn and Willow.  
  
“Willow. Dawn. Get up now and move away from Buffy.” They just looked at him, confused. “Do it now,” he growled. Confused, both girls did as he requested, rising to their feet and moving away from the couch. Spike watched as Buffy’s face shifted once more, this time her demonic mask staying in place. Spike uncoiled from the chair as Buffy stood up. Her gaze swiveled to the entryway noticing the young slayers standing poised at the entrance. Another growl erupted from Buffy; an answering one came from Spike. Buffy whipped back around to glance at her Sire.  
  
She cocked her head to the side, silently regarding him. He cocked his scarred eyebrow at her and waited. She turned to the slayers once more and ran her tongue along her lips. Spike watched as she coiled her muscles, prepared to launch herself at them.  
  
“No!” his Sire-voice rang throughout the room. Spike tackled Buffy to the ground before she could go after the girls, pinning her beneath him. He ignored her growls and he ordered everyone out of the room and for someone to get Giles. And now.  
  
There was a rush of movement and then the two were left alone in the living room.


	34. Chapter 34

Angel was just coming down the stairs when he heard the call for Giles by Spike, then the growled “now.” The authoritative note in his bellow had Angel rushing down the remaining steps and racing to Spike’s side. He was just about to open his mouth and object to Spike’s treatment of Buffy at the sight that greeted him. Then he got a look at Buffy’s face – her vamped, snarling face – and all thoughts of voicing his opinion flew right out the window. Instinctively understanding that Spike needed his support, he walked in the room to stand by his side as Spike sat there straddling Buffy’s waist, his arms pinning her shoulders to the floor. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at her. 

She was definitely a sight to behold – her hair splayed out on the floor, her yellow eyes flashing mutinously up at her sire as a growl erupted from her lips.  
  
The growl drew a surprised look from Angel; most vampire demons instinctively knew to yield to their sires, yet Buffy appeared to be the exception to the norm. She blatantly defied Spike. Spike sensed Angel standing next to him and commented wryly, “Seems we have us a bit of a problem, Sire.” He used the respected title in the hopes that Buffy would recognize the order of things and that he would enforce his will over her, the same way Angel would over him, if necessary. Buffy turned to Angel and growled again, not liking the fact that they were discussing her as if she weren’t even present in the room. The growl at him, Spike could handle; he made allowances due to his feelings for her. But this second disrespectful growl, directed at Angel – no less – had Spike momentarily seeing red and he reacted before he had time to think about his actions. His demon demanded it. Hell, even Angel’s demon was having fits if his answering growl was any indication. Angel wouldn’t fault him for what he was about to do.  
  
Yanking her head to the side – the one bearing Angel’s, Dracula’s, and the master’s marks – he leaned down and sunk his fangs into her neck. This bite was all about submission, not connection, so he had refrained from biting her on what he considered his side. Angel looked on as Spike drank from her, the loss of blood slowly forcing Buffy to yield to him. Eventually, her vampiric demon receded, allowing her human features to shift back into place.  
  
Buffy came out of her violent haze to feel Spike sucking great quantities of blood from her neck. This was no gentle bite either; the sting of it had her whimpering his name.  
  
“Spike?” she asked softly. Her eyes flicked briefly up to Angel’s, confused as to why he was staring back at her in his game face.  
  
Spike retracted his fangs from her neck as he heard Buffy call his name. His human features slid back into place and he quickly licked his lips, removing all visible traces of her blood, before he sat up to stare down into her face. Her confusion tore at him and he wanted to kick himself for what he had done to her. He scrambled off her weakened body and skidded away from her, his back coming to rest against the couch. Buffy didn’t understand what was going on. Spike was putting as much distance between him and her – as if there was something wrong with her.  
  
“Spike?” He just continued to stare back at her, refusing to acknowledge her. She looked helplessly back up at Angel.  
  
“Angel?” she whimpered.  
  
Angel’s own human features slipped back into place and he turned and looked at Spike. “It needed to be done, Will.”  
  
Spike’s self-disgust was evident as he looked up at Angel. His own gaze was hard, before it finally softened, an unnecessary sigh escaping his lips.  
  
“Buffy doesn’t understand what’s going on,” Angel said, then went on a little more forcefully, determined to prod Spike out of his self-hate. “She needs her Sire.” Those words seemed to propel Spike into action, fear of further hurting Buffy motivating him to return to her side. He crawled back over to her and gathered her limp body close to his side.  
  
“Weak,” she whispered. “What happened?”  
  
“I’m sorry about that, love. It was the only way to break the vampire demon’s hold over you,” he said softly, running his fingers lovingly through her hair. He pulled her up so that her face was held close to his neck, leaning his own to the side to give her better access. Buffy needed no further encouragement; her face swiftly shifting to allow her fangs to elongate before sinking them into his inviting neck. Spike barely flinched as her fangs penetrated his skin before she began greedily sucking his blood, quickly restoring her depleted supply. Feeling the strength flow back into her limbs, Buffy released Spike’s neck, pausing to lick the wounds closed, before curling into his body. Spike just held her, grateful she didn’t appear to be upset with him.  
  
All three looked up when Giles came rushing into the room, followed by Wesley, Fred, Dawn, and Willow.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
“What is it? What’s happened?” Giles demanded. He looked over to see Spike sitting on the floor, Buffy curled on his lap. Spike’s head was down, refusing to look at him, so he turned to Angel.  
  
Angel just glared back at the watcher, close-lipped. Seeing that he wouldn’t get any answers from either vampire unless he calmed down, Giles attempted to rein in his panic. Something that was very hard to do considering how quickly his heart had started pounding as both Willow and Dawn had burst into his room, scaring him half to death – their choked out, “Buffy… Spike… vamped… growling… come now,” almost impossible to make any sense from. He didn’t bother to analyze their words, just homed in on the “come now” and raced out of the room after them as they rushed back to the living room.  
  
Putting one hand over his chest to help still his racing heart and the other one on the back of the couch to help support his suddenly wobbly legs, he took a few deep breaths and tried again.  
  
“You’ll have to forgive me. Willow and Dawn came barging into my room completely in a dither and I just rushed down here thinking the worst had happened.”  
  
Angel gave him a slight nod, glancing at the two girls clutching each other in the entryway behind Giles. He returned his gaze to Giles and said, “It appears we’ve reached our first lesson, Rupert. Seems that Buffy’s vampire demon may have wanted to make a snack out of some of the young slayers. Spike had to assert his dominance over her to make her back off.” Angel cast a quick glance at the two still huddled on the floor; neither one were paying him any attention, too focused on the other right now.  
  
“But…Buffy…she has a soul. Why would she do something like that?”  
  
“I don’t know, Giles,” he replied, sighing. “Maybe her demons haven’t reached that ‘compromise’ that was mentioned in the prophecy…who knows? But, she appears to be back to normal. Hell, it was the weirdest thing,” he started, running a hand through his hair in agitation, “One minute she’s this great vampiress, growling and ready to claim her next victim, practically defying her sire and me to do so. The next, it’s just Buffy, lost and confused.”  
  
“Hmmmm… like the vampire demon completely surprised the First Slayer demon,” Giles murmured. Angel nodded. “Well, all we can do is keep an eye on her for the time being. And make sure she’s not alone… wait, you said she went after the slayers? Is that correct?”  
  
“That’s right…”  
  
“What about Willow and Dawn? They were in the room, right?”  
  
“Yes…”  
  
“Yet, Buffy didn’t go after them, just the slayers?” Angel nodded, unsure quite where Giles was going with this. “Interesting. It’s like her vampire demon only went after the slayers because it could sense the connection the First Slayer’s demon has with them. Anyway. I still think it’s best that she’s not left alone with anyone right now. Either Spike or you should be with her at all times. Just until we can figure out…”  
  
Angel had started to shake his head at that.  
  
“Look, Angel, I don’t like this any better than you. But you and Spike are the only ones that can force her vampire demon to submit. Not that I expect something like this happening again, but better to be safe.” Angel’s face became an impenetrable mask once more as the futility of the situation washed over him.  
  
“Alright. But, I want someone researching this. I’m not going to be very happy if I have to be the one to make her vampire demon play nice.” Angelus wouldn’t have minded in the least, but Angel damn sure had a problem with it. Giles had better hope it never came to that.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
The group quickly disbursed. Giles, Fred, Wesley, Dawn, and Willow retreated to the dining room to begin research on the portal that was to open next week and hopefully find a means with which to stop it. Angel told them he would make them all breakfast while they got started, and had both Buffy and Spike help him. The young slayers, rather than wait for Angel to fix them something, grabbed themselves some bowls of cereal and ate in the living room so as not to tempt Buffy by being in the kitchen, and because the dining room was full of people in “research-mode.”  
  
Angel got both Buffy and Spike to sit down at the kitchen table – after the slayers had cleared out of the kitchen – to have them cut up some fruit. He figured the useless activity would keep them both occupied while he pulled out the eggs, green peppers, ham, cheese, and other various ingredients and set about making omelets for the people hard at work in the other room.  
  
Angel glanced up from his preparations to see Spike’s shocked face as Buffy tentatively offered him a strawberry. He watched transfixed as Spike slightly raised out of his seat to lean over and take the offered treat from her hands. His eyes shut as his mouth closed around the fruit as well as a few of her fingers. Angel felt like a voyeur as his eyes flicked over to Buffy to take in her reaction. The vision of her own eyes closed, her head slightly tilted back, mouth open in a silent “O” as she savored her Sire’s lips on her fingers was imprinted on his brain and had his cock hardening inside the dress slacks he wore. He ignored his body’s response to the scene playing out before him, too entranced by the sight to look away. Spike had always been a sensual creature, the sexual benefits of being a vampire something he’d wholeheartedly embraced once being turned.  
  
Angel never before understood why Spike still insisted on eating normal food, but seeing the obvious pleasure he took in eating the piece of fruit from Buffy’s hand, he was beginning to. Maybe having a soul didn’t mean that he had to constantly deny himself life’s simple pleasures. Spike obviously didn’t seem to have a problem with it now that he had a soul; he was still all about pleasure – simple or otherwise.  
  
Spike smelt the burning eggs before Angel did and opened his eyes to figure out where the offending odor was coming from, his tongue never stopping its languid slide along Buffy’s. His gaze locked with that of Angel’s, the normal chocolate-brown color almost black as his pupils dilated from his– Spike sniffed the air again, searching. Faintly, under the overpowering scent of burning eggs, he noticed it: arousal. And from the unlikeliest of sources – Angel.  
  
He broke off his kiss from Buffy and stared at Angel, his own eyes darkening perceptively. Memories of days long past flitted briefly across his mind before being abruptly cut off at Buffy’s quiet groan. The noise seemed to break whatever spell had been cast over the two male vampires and while Spike turned his attention to Buffy, Angel turned around to fix the burned mess that had become of his eggs.  
  
“Later, love,” Spike replied, his smile promising about pleasure yet to come. Buffy just nodded and started cutting up fruit once more.  
  
“Are you burning something?” Dawn yelled, from her position in the dining room.  
  
“Just trying to get used to your burners!” Angel hollered back. The mumbled response of “God, his cooking is as bad as Buffy’s” had him growling softly, and Spike and Buffy chuckling.  
  



	35. Chapter 35

Angel, Buffy, and Spike walked into the dining room carrying several plates of omelets and a bowl of fruit salad amongst them. The research party was grateful for the interruption and quickly turned away from books and scrolls to devour the food giving off such a scrumptious aroma.  
  
Dawn bit into her omelet and sighed. She turned to Angel and said, “I take back that comment about your cooking being like Buffy’s. This is awesome.”  
  
Angel, slightly mollified, gave her a hesitant smile. Dawn returned it with one of her own. Spike, not to be outdone by Angel, quickly announced, “Try the fruit salad, ‘Bit. I made that.”  
  
Dawn turned to him and rolled her eyes. Not wanting to hurt his feelings, she took a bite of the fruit and announced, “Also, very good!” At his slightly offended look she added, “Actually, it’s the best fruit salad I’ve ever had.”  
  
Buffy, from her position on Spike’s lap, snorted. “Like it’s so hard to make a fruit salad.”  
  
“Bite your tongue, wench. I slaved hard over that salad.” Buffy objected to the “wench” and gave him a good poke in the ribs. “Ow! What the bloody hell was that for?”  
  
“ _That_ , was for calling me a wench.” Buffy smiled sweetly up at him.  
  
Angel hated to break the light mood that had settled over the room, but it was time for him to tell the others what he had managed to find out about the portal. “Now that we’re all here, I guess I can tell you what I was able to find out about the portal.”  
  
Those that were eating stopped mid-bite to look at him.  
  
“You all know that the portal is scheduled to open on Thursday. Well, I’ve found out that Buffy, as the guardian will be needed to close it. This time, once and for all. I managed to pry out of one of the seers that ‘The Guardian holds the key.’”  
  
Wesley, Fred, and Giles just looked at one another before announcing simultaneously, “The scythe!”  
  
“It makes perfect sense. After all, that’s what started this whole ‘connection’ thing to begin with,” Giles opined.  
  
“I quite agree,” Wesley added. “Willow can use the scythe as the catalyst that helps to close the portal.”  
  
“Don’t forget about the blood, mate.” This from Spike. They all turned to him questioningly, confused as to how he would know about this.  
  
Buffy answered for him. “It’s always about the blood.” Spike smiled at her, both remembering his words from long ago.  
  
“I think Spike has a point here,” Giles replied. Soon, the four – Giles, Willow, Fred, and Wesley – were deep in conference, discussing various means of enacting the spell.  
  
After a moment, Angel broke into their heated discussion.  
  
“We still need to figure out a plan of attack.” Conversation slowly petered out until everyone was staring at Angel again. He, in turn, looked towards Buffy and Spike. “I think we need to call Faith.”  
  
Giles started to protest, shaking his head. “She’s needed on the Cleveland Hellmouth—”  
  
Buffy cut him off, well aware of Angel’s train of thought. “No, Angel’s right. We need her here. She came through before. Besides, if what I’m thinking is similar to Angel, she will give us a good cover.”  
  
“Exactly my thoughts.” Angel went on to explain. “That demon we encountered has no way of knowing his spell was unsuccessful. I say we bring Faith here, leaving Buffy and the other slayers hidden until we get the portal closed, then bring them out as our secret weapon.”  
  
Buffy grumbled at this, hating to wait while the others fought, but realized that Angel was right. Her attacker didn’t know that his plan had failed, but if he saw her, he would instantly know, blowing whatever advantage they might have.  
  
In the end, everyone agreed with Angel and a call was placed to Faith. It was decided by everyone not to tell Faith about what was going on until she arrived. So when she showed arrived, she was completely shocked to see not only Angel and Buffy, but Giles, Wesley, Fred, and Spike. _Spike?_ When the hell did _that_ happen?  
  
Then her eyes zeroed in on Buffy.  
  
“Damn, B! What the hell have you been up to over here?”  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Buffy opened her mouth to answer, trying desperately to wrap her tongue around the words that would explain her situation. In the end, it was Giles that came to her rescue. 

Giles turned to the man standing silently behind Faith.  
  
“Mr. Wood, good to see you’ve sufficiently recovered from your previous injuries.”  
  
“It’s Robin, and thanks. Had some help in that department,” he replied, his arm settling around Faith’s shoulders, giving her a quick squeeze. She rolled her eyes at him at that, but a soft smile played across her lips. After Robin had healed, he’d insisted that Faith and he take things slowly. At first, she tried to seduce him into changing his mind, determined to not let her emotions get involved. But Wood had been adamant, his will in this being much greater than hers. In the end, Faith had allowed him to set the pace and slowly the two of them had built a relationship on trust and honesty.  
  
“Er, Robin, of course. Faith, Robin, why don’t we step into the office so we can explain what’s going on.  
  
“Giles, we may as well go to the living room. There’s more space there anyway. And now’s a good time to let the other slayers in on the plan,” Buffy said.  
  
“Yes, of course. You’re right. The living room, then.” While the others made their way to the living room, Buffy kept walking down the open foyer to the classroom that the girls were currently occupying. She refused to allow their tutoring to slip. It was the same reason Dawn was currently at school and not at home. Buffy wanted to maintain some type of normalcy with her girls and schooling helped in that endeavor.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
As Buffy sat anxiously waiting behind the cover of the trees, she thought back over the previous week: the explanation to Faith and Wood, of Buffy’s new role as the Guardian slayer, and the events leading up to it; the week-long research marathon that left everyone tired, yet determined; the nightly lovemaking sessions that would have her blushing in memory if she were able. She hadn’t had another “vampire episode” in the past week and Buffy was secretly thankful for it. Giles had said that it would become their top priority once this Draemuir dimension issue was resolved. Buffy still hadn’t heard from Xander and she silently hoped that her friend was alright.  
  
Everyone had decided to remain at Buffy’s place for an impromptu holiday celebration after closing the portal to partake in some American turkey dinner. Well, after some much-needed rest anyway, since it was just after midnight. By the time this confrontation was over, they’d all be ready for some much-needed rest. Buffy pulled her thoughts from the previous week and concentrated on what was happening now.  
  
Buffy, Willow, Dawn, and the other slayers were hiding in the trees as Spike, Angel, Faith, and the rest of Angel’s team made their way into the clearing to confront the Draelorn demons that were quickly filtering out of the open portal. Willow and Dawn stayed hidden so they could put up a barrier that would make it impossible for anyone to leave the immediate vicinity. Some of the demons had gotten through the portal, but they weren’t going to be going too far. Buffy and the other slayers stayed hidden – temporarily – for another reason; they wanted to lure the demons out, especially the one that had attacked Buffy. He had no way of knowing that his plan hadn’t worked. So, for now, Buffy and the others waited. Once the portal was closed, all bets were off. Buffy never allowed others to fight her battles and she wasn’t about to start now.  
  
“Have you got the barrier up?” Buffy whispered anxiously to Willow. She blinked in amazement as she noticed Willow’s appearance. She looked like an avenging angel; her hair practically glowed white, yet her eyes were pitch black.  
  
“Uh, Wills, you okay over there?”  
  
“I’m fine, Buffy. Honest,” Willow replied. “I’ve learned to control this a lot better than before. I’ve been busy these last few months.” Buffy didn’t doubt her friend. Willow spoke in a slow, even tone, her youthful appearing belying the maturity of the voice that spoke to her.  
  
“Okay….the barrier?” she once more asked.  
  
“It’s up. Now to work on closing the portal. Angel said that he was told that the ‘Guardian holds the key.’ I’m…we’re… sure that means the scythe. After all, that’s what started this whole thing, right?”  
  
“I guess so. That’s what Giles and the others thought, anyway.”  
  
“Okay, then. Let’s get started. Bring the scythe and place it in the circle. Just make sure you don’t disrupt the protective ring.”  
  
“Right.” Buffy placed the scythe inside the circle; Willow sat Indian-style before it.  
  
“Now nick yourself and sprinkle a little of your blood on the scythe.” Buffy complied, nicking her wrist with her fangs, allowing her blood to drip along the length of the scythe. When Willow nodded, she pulled her hand away and licked her wrist, closing the cut she had made. Willow began chanting then, the foreign words sounding oddly melodic to her ears and Buffy turned to the portal, waiting for it to close so she and the young slayers could join the others in the battle.  
  
Willow’s chanting came to an end, and she opened her eyes, shaking her head to clear the haze.  
  
“Did it work?” Willow asked.  
  
Buffy glanced over at the portal. Demons were steadily streaming out of the opening. If they didn’t get the thing shut soon, they’d be too many for them to handle.  
  
“No, Willow, it didn’t work,” Buffy cried, her anxiety making her voice sound unnecessarily harsh.  
  
“I don’t understand,” Willow whispered to herself. “‘The Guardian has the key.’ Those were the exact words out of Angel’s mouth. This should have been all we needed to do to get the portal closed.”  
  
“Me either, but if we don’t do something soon, there’s gonna be too many demons for us to handle.”  
  
“Uh, guys,” Dawn broke into their conversation. Buffy and Willow turned to Dawn.  
  
“Ummm… maybe…uh,” she broke off, unsure.  
  
Buffy walked over to Dawn, placing one of her hands under her chin to gently force Dawn to look at her. “What is it, Dawnie?”  
  
“It’s just… I mean…I was supposed to be used to open portals. Maybe I need to help close this one?”  
  
“The ‘Key’. Dawnie, that’s brilliant,” Willow cried from her seated position in front of the circle. “Buffy, you and Dawn come over here. You’re both gonna need to cut yourself. Let your blood mix before letting it fall to the scythe.”  
  
Buffy and Dawn quickly walked over to the circle.  
  
“Sorry, Dawnie,” Buffy whispered, moments before her fangs sliced a line across her palm. She quickly did the same to her own hand. Interlacing their fingers together, their blood mixed before slowly falling to the scythe that lay on the ground.  
  
“That should do it, Buffy,” Willow said, before beginning to chant once again.  
  
Buffy pulled their joined hands from over the scythe. She unlinked their fingers, bringing Dawn’s palm to her lips to close the wound before repeating the same action to her own. Buffy reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind Dawn’s ear.  
  
“Okay?” Buffy asked. Dawn nodded, unable to speak. Her sister’s fangs hadn’t hurt as she’d cut a line across her palm, but when their blood mingled before falling to the scythe, Dawn could feel tingles rushing through her body. Instinctively, Dawn knew that this was what needed to be done, that this time the spell would work.  
  
Sure enough, the girls watched as the portal slowly got smaller, before finally closing. It was time for Buffy and the others to go to work.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Spike quickly found himself surrounded by Draelorn demons. He held his sword loosely in his hands waiting for the first to strike. After what seemed like hours, but in reality was mere seconds, the first one made his move, swiftly bringing up his sword to strike in a downward arc. Spike was ready for him and quickly blocked the move. His attacker tried to land several more blows that he was able to easily parry before landing his own death blow: as his attacker made his last lunge, he overcompensated his swing leaving his head vulnerable for Spike’s death blow, effectively severing the demon’s head from his shoulder.  
  
Spike had no time to congratulate himself on his kill as his next attacker made his move. As his second attacker charged him, running full force, Spike waited until the last second before ducking, effectively sending his attacker flying over his shoulders and down his back to sprawl on the ground behind him, momentarily dazed. Ignoring him for the moment, Spike concentrated on the next two that appeared ready to engage him. As they both inched forward, Spike swung his sword in a sweeping arc before him, causing both of his would-be attackers back a few paces. This allowed Spike to regroup and prepare to meet their charge.  
  
His attackers thought they would be smart, one circling around to attack his back while the other made his move on his front. The demon in front of him surged forward, attempting to drive his sword down to imbed itself in Spike’s shoulder. Spike managed to deflect the blow, surging in close to his attacker so that their bodies were practically touching. Neither was able to use their sword against each other. Out of the corner of his eye, Spike saw the attacker that had swung around move in for an easy kill. He pushed away from the attacker that had him pinned, the momentum allowing him to swing his body in a complete circle giving extra force for his sword to strike his attacker’s middle. His attacker got in a lucky block, but Spike quickly attacked again. The downward thrust of his sword tearing into the flesh of his shoulder.  
  
He hadn’t forgotten about the attacker behind him, and as Spike saw him raise his sword, he loosed the sword from the first attackers shoulder to bring it up to deflect the blow by the second. His attacker wasn’t expecting to be blocked and was thrown off balance. This allowed Spike to finish off his first attacker. With a sweeping arc of his sword he decapitated the first and used the momentum of his attack to twist around to face the second. A few quick thrusts and this foe, too, was dispatched. Spike allowed himself a quick glance around the room to see how his teammates were doing, before he was once again sucked into the thick of battle.  
  


~*~

Giles, Fred, and Wesley stayed together relying on their numbers to make up for their lack of skill. Between the three of them, they were able to make a slight dent in the number of demons left in the clearing.

~*~

Faith was thoroughly engaged in the battle; Robin did his best to guard her backside and keep her alive as she took out one Draelorn demon after another who was foolish enough to try and fight her.

~*~

Angel was dealing with the three demons surrounding him when he heard a bellow erupt from one of the last demons to enter safely through the open passage. He glanced up quickly at the noise – and almost foolishly got his head hacked off – to see the demon both Spike and he had confronted in the barn last week. Apparently, he had just noticed that his portal was now closed as well as the appearance of the Slayer – Buffy, that is. With a slight smile playing about his lips, he noticed that Spike was well aware of the demon’s presence as well.

~*~

Buffy, with the aid of her scythe, was quickly charging her way through the Draelorn demons that had managed to get through the portal before it was finally closed. The scythe whistled through the air as she swung it to and fro hacking anything and everything that stood in her way. Since the portal was closed, there was no more need for her and the other slayers to hide.

~*~

The young slayers also adopted Giles’ and the other’s fighting style. They had broken up into several groups as they raced across the clearing behind Buffy, staying close to one another as they fought, able to offer any additionally help to the others if need be.

~*~

Spike recognized the sound of that bellow of outrage. Quickly dispatching the demon he was currently fighting, he turned to see Buffy’s attacker slowly making his way towards her. Seeing red, he raced towards him on an intercept course, his sword raised in preparation of the fight to come.

He reached Buffy before the demon and stood at her back as Damius continued his advance. Around him, the Draelorn demons were quickly being eliminated leaving just Spike’s opponent. The others watched as Spike and the last demon entered into a battle to the death. None had any doubt that Spike would be victorious and stood back to watch the fight before them.

Spike was prepared as Damius came towards him at a run, his sword held before him in an attempt to skewer him. Spike waited until the demon got closer then swung his sword in an underhanded arc to deflect his opponent’s blade. The move caused Damius to twist to the side, leaving him vulnerable and Spike took advantage, landing a bone-jarring punch to the demon’s face. Before the demon had time to recover, Spike had re-gripped his sword with both hands. He had hoped to finish this battle quickly so that they could all go home and put this behind them, but at the last possible second, the demon was able to block the deathblow.

Spike quickly regrouped and once more charged the demon.

“I told you we’d meet again, demon,” Spike taunted as he moved in for the kill. “It’s a good thing I’m going to kill you because now you won’t have to go back and tell your boss that you messed up. Not that you could go back anyway. My slayer took care of your little loophole. Looks like you demons are just gonna have to be happy in your own little dimension.”

“I’ll kill you for that, vampire. Nobody makes a fool of Damius, high priest of the Draelorns,” the demon vowed.

Spike snorted at that. “Maybe you haven’t notice this yet, mate. But you’re the last one standing. Now, make your move so I can go home with my friends there.”

Damius became enraged that the vampire would dare belittle him. His anger made him careless, which was just what Spike had intended all along. As the demon attempted an erratic thrust of his sword, Spike was prepared, easily sidestepping the blow and landing his own. His sword penetrated the demon’s chest, where Spike assumed his heart would be. Not taking any chances, he quickly pulled the blade out of the demon’s body and severed its head.

“That was for hurting my girl,” he whispered to the corpse before upending his sword and driving it into his back. Turning, he made his way over to where the others stood waiting for him. Buffy ran towards him and threw herself in his arms. Spike wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close in a near bone-crushing hug. Buffy hugged him back equally as hard.

“Let’s go home, love.”

“Home,” Buffy repeated softly. “Yes, let’s go.”

Together, the two walked towards the group waiting patiently for them.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
It was a grateful, yet tired group that entered Buffy’s home back during the predawn hours. Without words to one another, they quickly broke off to get some much-needed rest. Everyone was exhausted after spending the past week researching or planning the coming confrontation, sleep calling to all to recharge their battle-weary bodies.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Several hours later, everyone began filtering downstairs. Since Angel turned out to be such a good cook, he was nominated by everyone to cook the turkey. Grumbling about the unfairness of the vote, he volunteered Spike, Wesley, and Robin to help him. The women of the household quickly seconded Angel’s idea, snickering behind their hands at the thought of the men finally being the one to cook the traditional Thanksgiving meal.  
  
The women congregated in the living room, while Angel, Spike, and Robin were busy in the kitchen. Giles, not wanting to be the only male in the living room with a roomful of girls, escaped to the kitchen to join the men.  
  
Willow and Faith quickly caught the others up on what they had been doing since they were all last together. Faith blushed a becoming shade of red when mention was made of her relationship with Robin. The other girls, seeing this, soon began teasing her.  
  
“So, Faith, how’s it feel?”  
  
“Yeah, how’s that ‘wood’?” Buffy added. It finally felt good for Buffy to be on the giving end of the innuendos.  
  
The girls all dissolved into giggles at Buffy’s comment. They laughed even harder when Faith didn’t comment, just blushed even more.  
  
“Why, Faith, is that a blush?” Willow teased. She been on the receiving end of some of Faith’s comments about her sexuality, and payback was finally being had. Although, this time around, there was none of the malice of before. This time, the girls were just gossiping, as women were wont to do.  
  
The ringing of the doorbell interrupted their teasing, and Faith pounced on the opportunity to leave the room, yelling a quick, “I’ll get it” over her shoulder.  
  
“It’s good that she’s finally happy,” Buffy commented.  
  
“Yeah, Wood seems to agree with her,” Willow replied. She flashed a wide-eyed, innocent blink at the others before dissolving into a fit of giggles again. The others in the room soon joined her.  
  
Buffy stopped abruptly when she noticed the newcomers standing in the entryway. Xander, along with a petite, dark-haired girl, stood hesitantly just inside the living room. Faith had moved behind the two, preventing their escape.  
  
“Xander?” Buffy called softly, coming quickly to her feet.  


~*~

Spike sensed Buffy’s distress and quietly left the kitchen to see what was upsetting her. The others noticed his departure and silently followed him out to the foyer. Everyone stopped when they saw who stood just inside the living room entrance.

~*~

“Hi, Buffy,” Xander replied nervously. Buffy wanted nothing more than to rush around the couch and throw herself in her friend’s arms, his anticipated reaction to her room-temperature body stayed that action.

“You got my email?”

Xander nodded.

“A few days ago. Sorry. I would have been here sooner, but I had to convince Alaine to come and meet my friends. She was a little hesitant about meeting you.”

Apparently, Alaine didn’t like being talked about as if she wasn’t here, if the elbow to Xander’s ribs was any indication. Xander’s breath left him in a rush and he rubbed his stomach to ease the sudden ache. Buffy liked her immediately.  
  
Buffy walked around the couch and stood in front of the girl. She had noticed the scent of werewolf on her, watched as said werewolf sniffed the air and caught her scent.  
  
“Hi, I’m Buffy. Welcome to my home,” Buffy said to the girl, holding out her hand. Alaine gave Buffy a shy smile, reaching out her own hand.  
  
“Alaine.”  
  
“Alaine, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Buffy glanced over at Xander and noticed his relieved expression. As if she would fault him for dating a werewolf. They’d all been down this road before. “Why don’t you come in and have a seat? Would you like something to drink? Xander? A beer?”  
  
Alaine told Buffy that a soda would be fine; Xander concurred with the beer request. She looked up as she walked into the foyer on her way to the kitchen and noticed the guys had all come out of the kitchen and were standing there, watching their new guests. Buffy just shrugged her shoulders.  
  
“Spike, can you get a soda and a beer for me?” Spike nodded and walked back into the kitchen. The others followed Buffy as she turned around and reentered the living room.  
  
“So, Xander, what have you been up to?” Buffy asked. He hadn’t sat down, just stood next to the chair Alaine was sitting in.  
  
“Uh… well… that is…” he trailed off. Buffy watched as Alaine placed her hand on his arm, immediately soothing him. Buffy was impressed. It appeared that Xander had come a long way in dealing with his demons.  
  
“I toured a bit, finding the occasional new slayer to send on their way to you or Giles. But then, well, I got tired. Decided I’d had enough and was determined to start a new life. A normal life. I met Alaine, and I thought I had found that. Turns out I just wasn’t meant to have normal. See, Alaine is a werewolf. And, I love her.” His smile said it all. He did love her, and that love had appeared to take away the cynical edge that seemed to mark her friend since his friend Jesse was killed by a vampire.  
  
“Oh, Xander. That’s wonderful!” Buffy cried. There were well wishes all around the room for the couple. Hugs and kisses were exchanged. It was like the Scooby gang had never been apart.  
  
It was as Xander gave Buffy a huge hug that he blurted out teasingly, “So, Buffy, when did you become a vampire?”  
  
Buffy pulled away and stared at him with her mouth open. “You know?” Xander gave her a knowing look. “Uh, Buffy, have you looked at yourself in the mirror?” Then, he promptly burst out laughing at his own joke. Buffy stared at her friend in shock.  
  
“Okay…who are you? And, what have you done with my friend Xander?”  
  
“Buffy, as long as I spent on the Hellmouth, did you honestly think I wouldn’t notice?”  
  
Buffy let out an unnecessary sigh.  
  
“You’re okay with this?” Buffy asked hesitantly.  
  
“He better be okay or he can just turn around and walk right out the front door,” Spike said from the entryway. To prove he meant business, he gave Xander an evil glare.  
  
“Pffft,” Xander replied, his arm slung casually around Buffy. Spike quirked his brow at Xander’s response.  
  
“Hi, Spike! Nice to see you among the undead again.”  
  
“Alright, who are you and what have you done to Xander?” Turning to Red, he questioned, “Is this a Xanderbot?”  
  
“Ha ha, deadboy,” Xander replied, although there was none of the malice of before in the name. It almost sounded like grudging affection.  
  
“Watch your mouth, whelp. I don’t have a chip that’ll prevent me from hurting you.”  
  
Spike watched in amazement as Xander just snorted at him. His gaze narrowed as his saw his arm still around his girl.  
  
“And get your hands off my girl!”  
  
“Okay, okay…” Xander replied, raising his arms up in an innocent gesture. “A mite touchy, aren’t we?”  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes and walked over to give Spike a quick kiss. “You’re not burning anything are you?”  
  
“You should be asking Angel that, love. He’s in charge.” The guys took the hint and retreated to the kitchen, Xander included.  
  
The girls got back to their gossip, eager to get Alaine’s story on how she had met Xander. The retelling had all the girls in a dither, their laughter resounding throughout the room.  
  
When they heard Spike shout, “Bloody hell, Xander. You _are_ a demon magnet,” Willow and Buffy lost it. Tears began to stream down their face in their merriment. They were laughing so hard, they didn’t hear Xander reply, “Shut up, fang face.”  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
The meal was finally ready and everyone was seated around the dining room table. Mini conversations were being shared as trays were passed around the table. The smells caused several to lick their lips in anticipation.  
  
It was by far the best Thanksgiving Buffy had had since her mother had died. She stood up, and everyone stopped talking to look her way.  
  
“I just wanted to say… Happy Thanksgiving…to all of you. My friends, some new, some not so new. And my family. And to tell you how much you mean to me. How much I love you. All of you.” Her eyes made contact with everyone at the table. “I hope that all of you may one day experience the joy that I’m feeling right now. And, I want to welcome you to the first annual Buffy Thanksgiving. There’s no reason why we can’t get together at least once a year to see how we’re all doing.” Again she looked around the table, noticed that everyone nodded, and smiled back at them. “Good. Now that that’s settled, let’s eat.”  
  
Giles stood up as Buffy resumed her seat. “To friends,” he said raising his glass. Everyone stood up and raised their glasses.  
  
“To friends,” they chorused.  
  
“To family,” Giles added.  
  
“To family,” they all replied. Raising their glasses higher, they all took a drink, sealing the toast that sounded suspiciously like a vow.


	36. Epilogue

“’Bout bloody time Peaches finally put the company’s resources to good use,” Spike grumbled as he prepared himself a drink from the bar. Buffy rolled her eyes at him and settled back in her plush chair, nodding distractedly at something Dawn said from the seat next to her.  
  
“You’re not gonna get drunk just because we’re spending Christmas in Los Angeles, are you?” Buffy asked, eyeing the double-shot of Jack Daniels he poured into a tumbler.  
  
“Make this soddin trip go a lot quicker,” he mumbled under his breath.  
  
“I heard that. Vampire hearing now, remember? Now, come sit down and keep me company,” Buffy said, patting the seat beside her. Actually, she wanted her pillow back. The long flight from Rome to L.A. was extremely boring, and she was hoping to get a nice nap in to make the time go by quicker.  
  
“Can’t believe I agreed to this…wasn’t Thanksgiving enough? It’s bad enough I’m the only bloke living with twelve females. Now, I’m willingly going to add Angel’s gang, the Scoobies, and your git of a watcher too? For a whole soddin week? Am I bloody insane? I swear… if Giles brings Andrew with him I’m bloody well locking myself in my suite and refusing to come out!”  
  
“Spike?” He looked up from his rant into Buffy’s eyes.  
  
She knew this act was just for show. Spike had come to a tentative truce with Xander. Oh… they still traded their barbed nicknames, but it was done more out of habit now than anything else. He’d also put aside his differences with Giles. She knew he was secretly grateful that Giles had come to Rome at a moment’s notice to help her. Even Angel seemed to be part of Spike’s recent good will. The two had apparently buried the hatchet of whatever had seemed to be bothering them for the last oh… hundred years or so. Sure, Spike still seemed to get on Angel’s nerves. But Buffy believed Spike did that to keep Angel from constantly brooding. A smile came to her lips as she thought about what mischief Spike would create with Angel once they arrived in Los Angeles.  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“Shut up,” Buffy replied, slipping a little exasperation into her tone of voice. His scarred brow quirked at that and Buffy gifted him with another roll of her eyes. Seeing “Plan A” wasn’t working, she quickly regrouped and switched to “Plan B.”  
  
“I’m tired, Spike,” she half-whined. “Can you come and sit down so I can lean on you and take a nap… please?” Out of the corner of her eye, she made out her sister’s eye roll at her expense. _‘Hey…whatever worked.’_ The plaintive whining worked. Spike pushed himself away from the bar and sat down beside Buffy.  
  
“C’mere, love,” he called softly, guiding Buffy’s head to rest in his lap. As his fingers glided through her hair, she was soon lulled to sleep. She slept until Spike gently shook her awake, telling her that they were about to land.  
  
The nice thing about having your own private company jet was that it was usually stored in your private hangar. This allowed the two vampires to easily switch from plane to limo without worrying about the daytime sky. The limos and the lack of having to deal with baggage claim were a big bonus as well. In a matter of minutes, both limousines were wending their way through the afternoon Los Angeles traffic on their way to the Wolfram  & Hart law offices.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
“Peaches!” Spike hollered, throwing open the double doors to his office.  
  
“Spike,” Angel muttered. His voice became much friendlier as he greeted Buffy, Dawn, and the others. “How was your flight? No problems, I take it?”  
  
“The flight was fine…” Buffy started.  
  
“’Course it was fine for you… you slept the whole way.” That remark earned Spike an elbow to the ribs.  
  
“Ow! Bloody hell, Slayer! What the hell was that for? It’s the truth…” 

Buffy ignored him and turned to Angel.  
  
“Thanks for the use of your plane, Angel. You didn’t have to do that. Giles was going to pick up the tab with Council funds,” Buffy told him.  
  
“Not a problem at all. Besides, half the time the thing is just sitting in the hangar. It gave the pilots a chance to rack up some in-flight miles if nothing else.”  
  
“Well, thanks… so… speaking of… have you heard from Giles? What about Willow and Xander? Anything from them?” she asked.  
  
“As a matter of fact, I just sent the limo after Giles. His flight is due to arrive any time now, and with his Council credentials, he shouldn’t have to deal with a long line in customs. He should be here in about an hour. Willow is already here, probably asleep in her room. Xander isn’t due in for another two hours yet.”  
  
Standing up from behind his desk, he gestured to the elevators in the corner of his office.  
  
“Why don’t I show you all where you’ll be staying and let you get settled in? Sound good?” Murmured assents were whispered from the grateful group. After a ten hour flight, everyone was eager for a shower and a bed, not necessarily in that order.  
  
Angel showed everyone to his or her rooms, explaining that he didn’t have a formal meal planned for tonight as he had figured on everyone being exhausted. He did, however, show them how to get food and drink delivered to their rooms via the telephones and that breakfast was being catered in one of the conference rooms in the morning.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Buffy and Spike were alone in their room. The room Angel had given the two to use was rather large. The door opened to a large sitting area that included a huge couch and entertainment center. Further in the room was a pseudo dining area and bar; the bar included a mini refrigerator, microwave and sink. Cabinets above housed an assortment of dishes and glasses. A beautifully decorated folding screen provided privacy for the huge king-sized bed that was tucked against the back wall. The headboard, dresser, nightstands, and foot chest were all composed of the same dark wood, all beautifully handcrafted. Off to the side was – upon further inspection – a huge bathroom. A shower and separate sunken tub made out of beautiful tile beckoned visitors to while away the hours why getting clean.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
After a good night’s rest by Angel’s guests, everyone gathered the next day in his office. It was officially Christmas Eve. Angel had given the employees of Wolfram & Hart the day off, much to the shock of the senior partners – who let their displeasure be known via Eve.  
  
Angel just told her politely to “stuff it,” inviting her to leave so that he could spend time with his family and friends. She left in a huff, much to the amusement of the people currently occupying his office.  
  
Everyone came armed with their gifts, piling them in a vacant corner, to be opened tomorrow.  
  
The gang spent the afternoon hanging out in Angel’s office, either socializing or watching the television playing the latest in holiday entertainment. By early evening, everyone made their way to their individual rooms to relax after a day of eating, drinking, and being merry.  
  
After the last person left his office, Angel picked up the phone and had his decorators get to work.  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Buffy and Spike finally made their way back to their room after wishing Dawn a Merry Christmas and that they would see her in the morning. Hand-in-hand, the two walked into their borrowed room. Spike looked up in surprise at all the unlit candles scattered about the room. Turning to Buffy, he quirked a brow at her.  
  
She just smiled at him. She had sent him out of the room ahead of her on the pretext that she forgot to grab a gift. After he had left, she’s pulled the candles from their hiding place and placed them all over their room. Quickly, so as not to arouse his suspicions, Buffy got everything prepared for the early Christmas gift she planned to give him.  
  
Now that everything was in place, Buffy was ready to give Spike his early Christmas gift. It was Christmas Eve after all, and it was a tradition in the Summers’ household that everyone got to open one gift the day before Christmas.  
  
Moving forward, she grabbed Spike’s hand in hers and led him to the bed. Telling him to get undressed, she left him there to walk about the room lighting the candles. When she was done, the room resembled her bedroom at her “awakening.” She wondered briefly if Spike realized the significance of the candles, but figured he probably didn’t.  
  
Buffy knew how much Spike wanted to claim her, but had resisted. She was glad, because she wanted to be the one to initiate this. To prove to him how much she loved him. She had heard how he’d tried to claim Dru so many years ago, only to have her reject his claim. It was probably why he hesitated with her now. Although, if Spike had initiated the claim, she would have certainly reciprocated. She wanted nothing more than to tie herself to this man for all eternity.  
  
But, she wanted to be the one to do it.  
  
To show how much she loved him. Would always love him.  
  
After all the candles were lit, she walked back to the foot of the bed, gazing down at her naked lover. The love spilling forth from his eyes had her weak in the knees. With her eyes fixated on his, she slowly undid the buttons to her top before shrugging out of her top. Reaching one hand up between her breasts, she undid the front clasp of her red lace bra, allowing it to follow the same path to the floor as her shirt.  
  
She watched as his eyes blazed hot with his mounting desire. Her eyes flicked briefly to the cock standing so proudly at attention. Licking her lips in anticipation, she reached behind her to undo the clasp of her skirt then lowering the zipper. The garment fell to the floor to pool at her feet. She stood before him in the matching pair of red thong underwear. Slipping a finger into either side of the waistband, she slowly lowered them to the floor, her eyes never leaving his as she worked the cloth down her toned legs.  
  
Finished with her little striptease, she stood back up, allowing Spike to feast on her naked figure. If possible, his eyes seemed to smolder more, his hardened cock straining towards her.  
  
With a smile on her lips, she crawled on the edge of the bed to make her way up his body. As she slithered up the length of his body, her tongue darted out to lick a path from the base of his cock, up along the underside, swirling around the head…once, twice, before engulfing his engorged staff in her mouth. His hands fisted in her hair as she took him all in her mouth, a hoarse, “Fuck… Buffy…” escaping his lips. As her head bobbed up and down on his staff, incoherent babblings issued forth from his lips.  
  
“Oh God… feels so good… don’t stop… harder… ahhh…”  
  
His words spurred her on, increasing her pace as she deep-throated him. Reaching one hand down, she fondled his balls, rolling them around in her hand.  
  
“God… Buffy… gonna cum…”  
  
Slipping his cock out of her mouth so just the head remained, she ran her tongue along the underside of his length, tracing the tip along the protruding veins. Then, in one quick motion, so took him in her mouth to the hilt, sucking hard on the upstroke to send him over the edge, before enveloping him once more.  
  
It was too much for Spike to take. Grabbing the back of her head, he thrust his hips upward and came.  
  
“Buffy…” he hollered, as his orgasm overtook his body.  
  
Buffy eagerly swallowed as his release flooded her mouth, the extra sucking action causing slight tremors to shudder through his body. Slowly, she worked her mouth up and down his cock, making sure he was licked clean, before releasing him from her mouth.  
  
As he collapsed back to the bed, a smug look came over her face. Licking her lips to get any stray bits she may have missed, Buffy moved up his body. Straddling his hips, she leaned down and kissed his parted lips, allowing him to taste himself on her.  
  
The moan that escaped his mouth had her once again licking her lips this time in anticipation. She could feel him start to swell again as she leaned over him, sampling his lips. Reaching one hand between her legs, she gripped him, stroking him a few times, before rubbing the head up and down her slick entrance.  
  
Her head fell back as he lifted his hips to push inside. A soft mewl escaped her lips. His raised his hips again, and slid in a little further. Unable to stand the exquisite torture anymore, Buffy sank down on his length until she felt her ass rest against his thighs.  
  
She felt his hands slide to her waist to guide her movements as she rode him. She wanted nothing more than for him to flip her to her back and pound into her with bruising intensity, but she needed to be in control tonight. Later, she promised herself. Right now, she just rode him for all she was worth, clamping her inner walls tightly around his cock.  
  
All too soon, her climax was upon her and she ground down on him as she began to quiver around him. Her demonic features slid to the fore and she came with a roar, burying her fangs in his neck, pulling his blood into her mouth, swallowing it down greedily.  
  
Her fangs were his undoing, and with his hands gripping her waist tightly, his hips shot off the bed as he filled her core with his release.  
  
“Mine!” she growled fiercely, as she felt his cock pulsing within her, releasing his seed within her.  
  
His eyes flew wide at her stated claim.  
  
“Yours,” he answered humbly, overwhelmed by her gift.  
  
With a fierce wave of possessiveness, Spike flipped her to her back, careful not to jar her fangs where they clung to his neck. Allowing his own features to shift, he quickly sunk them into her neck, just above his original mark. As her blood slid down his throat, a wave of contentment washed over him.  
  
“Mine,” he growled back.  
  
“Yours,” was her soft reply as she released her fangs from his neck. Buffy nicked her tongue with her fang and brought Spike’s lips to her own, sealing their vow. Breaking the kiss, they allowed their own blood to coat the fresh marks they gave one another before licking the wounds closed.  
  
With a sated sigh, he rolled off Buffy then gathered her close to his side. His fingertips trailed up and down the length of her arm that was draped across his middle.  
  
She glanced at Spike, and the love blazing from his eyes humbled her. She trailed her fingers along his jaw. The gentle caress had him closing his eyes in pleasure.  
  
“I love you, Spike,” she whispered softly.   
  
“I love you too, Buffy. Forever.”  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
It was early Christmas morning, and everyone was sprawled around Angel’s office in preparation of the gift exchange. Demons and human alike gathered to spread good cheer and bestow gifts of love and friendship to their friends and family. Even Willow got into the gift-giving atmosphere that was spreading throughout the room.  
  
All were in awe of the sudden transformation Angel’s office underwent over the previous night. It was as if Santa’s own decorator came in to transform the vampire’s office from a cold, remote workspace to a warm, inviting winter wonderland. Some type of holiday decoration covered every available surface. The once-vacant wall that was the home of the pile of presents now sported a huge Christmas tree, complete with fancy decorations.  
  
At the entrance to his office, mistletoe hung from the frame so that Angel was able to take advantage and place a chaste kiss to each of the females as they entered his office. The other males soon got caught up in the act and began dragging unsuspecting victims to the special branch to claim their kiss.  
  
After a time, everyone took a seat so they could begin passing out gifts.  
  
Spike and Buffy were curled up on the couch snuggled next to one another. Surprisingly, Xander and his werewolf fiancé, Alaine, were sitting next to them. Dawn and Willow sat on the floor chatting to the two.  
  
On a separate couch sat Fred, Wesley, Giles, and Gunn. Lorne was at the bar fixing himself a drink. The young slayers were scattered on the floor in small groups, talking amongst themselves.  
  
Almost all of them were practically prancing in their seats, each waiting with child-like eagerness to start tearing into the beautifully wrapped packages.  
  
Angel broke into their conversations to say, “I want to thank you all for coming to spend your Christmas here. Rather than go into some long-winded speech, how ‘bout we just get to opening gifts?”  
  
That announcement was met with several “hear hear’s” and a few “yeses” from some of the girls. Smiling, he walked over to the tree and grabbed a gift.  
  
“Giles. This one is for you.”  
  
“Oh, I say…” he trailed off, a blush staining his cheeks. He got up and went to retrieve his gift. Angel started calling out more names until, finally, everyone was loaded down with presents surrounding them.  
  
Some eagerly opened their gifts, tearing into the paper then squealing with delight at what they had received. Others, tentatively opened packages, shocked to be receiving a gift in the first place.  
  
One such person was Angel. Spike and Buffy watched as he fingered the wrapping paper of the gift they had given him. He looked up and made eye contact. _‘Open it,’_ Buffy mouthed. Turning his attention once more to the package, Angel tore off the paper, suddenly overcome with giddy anticipation. His normally expressionless face gave way to awe as he fingered the gift they had given him: multiple sketchpads, pencils and charcoals of exceptional quality stared back at him.  
  
“Read the note,” Spike said soft enough that he could be heard, but not overheard by the others as noise erupted around them. Angel glanced up for a second before looking through the supplies for a note. Finding it, he opened it and quickly perused its contents. When he was done, he looked back up at both of them and nodded once.  
  
  
_Angel,  
  
I know this is your gift, but both Spike and I would like something in return. We want a family portrait – a complete family portrait.  
  
Love,  
Buffy_  
  
(The “complete family portrait” was underlined twice.)  
  


~*~

  
  
Giles held the gift in his hand, confused. He looked up to where Spike sat opening a gift. As if sensing his gaze, Spike looked up to see the watcher staring at him. He gave the watcher a slight smile, completely devoid of his normal smirk.  
  
Turning away from the vampire, Giles quickly opened the gift Spike had given him. To say he was stunned was an understatement. The leather-bound book was obviously high quality. He didn’t see a title on the book so he opened the cover for a clue to what was inside. A folded piece of paper fell out, gaining his notice. He opened it and read Spike’s handwriting:  
  
_Rupert,  
  
I cannot thank you enough for all of your help. I’m sure the extensive library your Council maintained on past and present vampires is sadly lacking since the old Council building was destroyed. I hope this helps.  
  
Spike  
AKA William the Bloody_  
  
Giles thumbed through the text and gaped in astonishment. It seemed like every Master Vampire Spike had come into contact was written about in this book.  
  


~*~

  
  
Spike looked at the framed portrait that his ‘Bit had given him. His girls. He could feel himself getting choked up as he stared down at the portrait of Buffy and Dawn.  
  
“I had it done from a picture I carry in my wallet,” Dawn said softly from her position on the floor by his feet. Spike reached a hand out and ran it down her hair.  
  
“Thanks ‘Bit,” he whispered softly, almost too overcome for words.  
  


~*~

  
  
Dawn opened her gift from her sister and Spike. She looked at the golden locket, turning it over at Buffy’s whispered, “There’s an inscription on the back.”  
  
“My family. Forever,” Dawn read. She opened the locket and saw a mini portrait of the three of them together.   
  
A hug shared. A whispered thank you, followed by an “I love you.”  
  
“Me too, ‘Bit. Now, open your other gift,” Spike urged.  
  
Dawn pulled back and looked at them. Buffy had a confused look on her face; she had no idea what Spike was talking about. Dawn sat back down and searched among her packages for her other gift from Spike and Buffy. Well, Spike at least. Actually, it was from Spike and… Angel? She dug into the wrapping and her jaw dropped.  
  
Before Angel had a chance to prepare himself, Dawn launched herself at him, squealing her joy.  
  
“Stanford!”  
  
Angel awkwardly hugged the girl in his arms, helplessly turning to Spike for help. Spike just smirked at him, enjoying his floundering.  
  
“Uh… all I did was to provide the contacts. Spike’s the one that paid for it. Honest.” He was trying to detach himself from the clinging teen.  
  
“I don’t care…. Stanford!” she squealed again, wrapping her arms tighter around the vampire’s neck.  
  
“Uh… Spike. A little help here,” Angel asked, desperation now entering his voice.  
  
“Hey! What about me?” Spike complained good-naturedly, finally taking pity on Angel.  
  
Releasing one vampire, she turned and launched herself at the other.  
  
“Thanks, Spike!”  
  
“No problem, ‘Bit. No goofing off either. I expect good grades on that report card,” he said, mock-sternly.  
  
“Stanford?” Buffy questioned. “Stanford!” Her voice was starting to get a little loud.  
  
“Now, pet,” Spike started soothingly, “You knew she was going to be spreading her wings sometime.”  
  
“But Stanford? And all alone?”  
  
“It’ll give you an excuse to come back to the states more often. Besides, it’s not like we can’t relocate your operation back here anyway. Entirely up to you though.” 

Buffy crossed her hands over her chest and pouted.  
  
“Buffy, I don’t have—“ Dawn began.  
  
“Oh no you don’t.” Spike cut her off. “You’re going and that’s final. Besides, it’s already paid for. And you,” he pointed a finger at Buffy, “be happy for your sister.”  
  
“Oh, Dawnie, I am happy for you. It’s just…you know…” Tears formed in Buffy’s eyes at the thought of her sister going away to college next summer.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
After their gift exchange, the small group broke up to gush over their gifts. The conference room was opened next door and set up buffet-style for lunch. As people got hungry, they wandered out of Angel’s office to fix themselves a plate of food.  
  
Angel had also hired someone to man the bar all afternoon, so that by evening, several people were on their way to becoming severely intoxicated. In all, everyone’s spirits were high.  
  
At some point, a stereo was cut on and Christmas tunes played softly in the background. A few more rounds of drinks and many of the guests were singing along. Nobody seemed to mind the off-key voices raucously belting out the various carols; alcohol had a great numbing affect on the ears for everyone.  
  
That is, except one person: Lorne.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Lorne walked over to where Buffy stood surrounded by a group of her friends as they all sang off-key Christmas carols. Between the drinking and just the general lack of singing skills of the people involved, Lorne was attempting to rub away the developing migraine using two fingers to either side of his temples. He tapped Buffy on her shoulder to get her attention.  
  
“Hey, sweetcakes, we need to talk...”

 

**A/N: Okay, all, this is it. The last “chapter” of this story. Keep in mind, some issues haven’t been resolved. 1. Buffy’s demons. 2. Willow’s part in the spell. They’ll be resolved in the sequel.  Hope you’ve enjoyed the tale so far...**


End file.
